


Offbeat Omega

by AshSeven



Series: Offbeat [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alpha Yuri Plisetsky, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, F/F, F/M, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Otabek Altin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-08 21:38:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17394161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshSeven/pseuds/AshSeven
Summary: “Um, Yura?” Otabek began softly. “When did you say the meet was again?”“In two weeks. We leave on Wednesday.” Otabek tensed even further, and he pulled away from his neck fully. “Is something wrong?”Otabek sat up, swearing softly. “I might be in heat then.” Yuri’s eyes widened. “Might.” He swore again. “Fuck, this ruins everything."“No it doesn’t.” Yuri sat up, pulling Otabek onto his lap and wrapping his arms around his waist."We’ll get a hotel room,” he breathed. Otabek hummed. “And I’ll take care of you. Your every whim, you won’t have to lift a finger."Yuri's off to Almaty for a track meet, so naturally Otabek would go with him and they would have the time of their lives. Except Otabek's father seems to be firmly set against Yuri dating his son.





	1. Chapter 1

“Hey, guess what, Bekem,” Yuri said, grinning as he hung upside-down, off the back of Otabek’s futon. He’d been buzzing with excitement ever since coach had given them the meet schedule for this semester. Beka had been in the shower when Yuri finally arrived at his apartment and he had done everything from stretching out on the floor to pacing the tiny living room. He had even considered washing the dishes, but Otabek had stepped out then. 

“What?” Otabek asked, raising an eyebrow as he stared at Yuri over the rim of his steaming mug of green tea. His hair hung over his forehead in damp clumps, and he was dressed in a pair of dark joggers and a thin tank-top. Yuri had to physically keep himself on the futon, gripping the edges as tightly as he could, as he went around making tea. Yuri stared at the incredibly low waistband on narrow hips, showing off his back dimples, the shallow lines of his lower abs, and the strip of wiry, dark hair that cut his stomach in half. 

He ignored the fact that Otabek didn’t even try to guess. “I have a meet next month.” He paused, grinning widely as his stomach fluttered. 

Otabek hummed, leaning against the kitchen counter. “What are you running?” 

Yuri blinked; that wasn’t really the point but, “100 and 200, 110 hurdles, and - but uh, that’s…” He took a deep breath, pulling himself upright and grinning at Otabek from over his shoulder. “It’s in Almaty.”

Otabek’s eyes widened. “Really?” 

“Yeah.” His insides were bubbling, bursting, and he jumped over the back of the couch, bouncing up to Otabek and setting his hands on his hips. His skin was always so warm and so soft; he wiggled his fingers under his shirt, dancing across his hips. “And, uh… do you want to come with me?” Yuri knew he hadn’t been home in years, or seen most of his family in like forever. 

Otabek smiled, setting down his tea and wrapping his arms around Yuri’s waist. “Of course.” He nuzzled against the centre of Yuri’s chest. “I would love to, but… uh, plane tickets-”

“Don’t worry about that. I got it.” Viktor and Katsudon had already offered to pay for him, and the hotel if they wanted to stay longer than the rest of the track team. It was sort of a belated birthday present, since Viktor and Katsudon had been in Japan for most of March, for Katsudon’s parents to spend some time with Hikari.

“Yura-”

“I got it.” He pressed his nose to the top of Otabek’s head. “Did you forget how loaded my parents are?” Otabek grumbled, preparing to argue, but Yuri hushed him with a kiss. “Let me treat my omega, okay?”

Beka sighed into the kiss, his lips moving softly and slowly, and he hugged Yuri tightly. “Fine. I’ll tell my dad to expect us,” he mumbled against Yuri’s cheek. 

“I expect a full tour of Almaty by the way.” Yuri grinned, smoothing Otabek’s hair from his forehead. He looked up at him through long, thick eyelashes. God, he was beautiful. “I can’t wait to see you in your natural habitat.” 

Otabek rolled his eyes, scoffing. “Natural habitat. You do realise I left Almaty when I was like ten.” 

“Yeah, and?” 

“You’re good at maths; you can figure it out.” 

Yuri stuck out his tongue. Okay, Beka was basically Russian, but still. “Well, I’m pretty much dating a Kazakh prince, so…” 

Otabek rolled his eyes. “Shut up, and go make dinner.”

Grinning, Yuri let his hands fall to Otabek’s ass to squeeze and knead the plump muscle. “Nooo, I’m tired,” he whined. “You do it.” 

Otabek swatted his hands away and shoved him to the futon. “Baby.”

Yuri’s calves and thighs honestly felt like jelly. The first practice after holidays was always the worst, even if he’d been going to the gym with Beka. Cooking was the last thing he wanted to do right now. But if Beka needed his help he’d do it. He stumbled, until he hit the back of the futon. 

“Shut up you didn’t have to do like ten 800 meter sprints today!”

Otabek raised an eyebrow, bending to the lower cabinet for a frying pan. “No, and neither did you. Stop exaggerating.”

“It felt like it,” Yuri muttered, unabashedly staring at Beka’s ass. The fabric pulled tightly across his cheeks. He was wearing boxers, shame. 

“ _ Right _ .” He straightened, setting the pan on the stove top and picking up a head of garlic from the basket hanging next to the sink. “Chop this up for me.” He tossed it to Yuri without looking. 

Yuri dove to catch the garlic, nearly tripping over his feet. Beka chuckled, watching him struggle. 

“And they let you do  _ hurdles _ .”

“Shut up. I’ve  _ never _ knocked down a hurdle, you take that back Altin.” 

Beka smirked turning back around. Yuri nudged him with his hip, purposefully getting in his way to grab a knife and chopping board. Beka grumbled, batting his hands away, and shoving him backwards by stepping back and pressing his back and ass against Yuri.

Chewing his lip, Yuri pressed a palm to Beka hip, then wrapped an arm around his waist. He bent his neck to nibble at his ear. 

“Stop it.” Beka jerked away, but Yuri could clearly see him grinning. 

“No.” He chased Otabek’s face with his tongue and licked the shell. 

“Yura,” he whined, but his free hand was suddenly entwined with Yuri’s and he tilted his head to peck him on the mouth. Setting his knife on the counter, Yuri loosely held Otabek’s neck, keeping his face in place with his thumb pressed to his jawbone to deepen the kiss. Otabek let him hold his throat like this, a mock show of possession. His pulse was strong and steady under Yuri’s fingers, and his mouth was molten lava and silk. His breath was shuddering when they parted for air, and Yuri tightened his hold a fraction. Beka’s eyes fluttered shut and he let out a soft sigh. Yuri dove back in, kissing so roughly their teeth clashed. Otabek leaned into him, eagerly kissing back.

And yeah, they’d have to wait a little while longer for dinner. 

 

Summers were way too hot to sleep in more than his underwear. Yuri had no idea how Otabek could manage a shirt and joggers  _ under _ his sheets. But, he was pleased with the way Otabek stared as he made his way out of the bathroom while tying his hair up into a bun. His eyes moved up and down Yuri’s body, a small grin on his lips. It made Yuri’s stomach flutter and heat spark a little bit lower. 

Beka held up the sheets as Yuri slipped underneath. He was cuddling his bear to his chest with one arm and was gazing up at Yuri with dark eyes. Yuri curled around him instantly, and yeah, there was no way he was going to his eight am class tomorrow. He kissed a line up Otabek’s neck breathing in deeply. He smelled strongly of his aloe vera soap, but Yuri still caught the underlying smell of peaches. He sealed his lips against his pulse, sucking and nipping. Otabek hummed tilting his head and baring more of his neck to Yuri. Grinning, Yuri sealed his mouth around the scent gland behind his ear and pressed his palms against his stomach, pushing into the firm muscle. Otabek covered his hands, twining their fingers together as his breath grew heavy. Yuri hummed against his skin, bucking his hips into his ass when the front of his underwear began to grow tight, hot, and heavy. Otabek’s scent was so strong in his nose, sending waves of slow pleasure down to his cock. 

“You smell so good, baby,” Yuri hummed, rubbing himself in the crease between Beka's ass cheeks.

Otabek tensed in his arms, pulling away every so slightly. Yuri paused with his mouth hovering over his neck. 

“Um, Yura?” Beka began softly, biceps bulging as he held his bear tighter. “When did you say the meet was again?” 

“In two weeks. We leave on Wednesday.” Beka tensed even further, and he pulled away from his neck fully. “Is something wrong?” The flames in his stomach turned to ice. 

Beka sat up, swearing softly. “I might be in heat then.” Yuri’s eyes widened. “Might.” He swore again. “Fuck, this ruins everything.” 

“No it doesn’t.” Yuri sat up, pulling Otabek onto his lap and wrapping his arms around his waist. He still held the bear loosely in his lap, fingers playing with the blue, knitted sweater. Yuri’s lungs fluttered. “If you go into heat while we’re there, I can just change the date of our return flight. And we’ll get a few extra days all to ourselves.” Beka still didn’t look too happy. Yuri couldn’t blame him; he knew the cramps alone were enough to keep him in bed and he had given up on finding and oral suppressant that didn’t make him sick. Yuri kissed behind his ear, breathing in the strong sweetness of his scent gland. Beka's breath hitched when he ran his tongue along the smooth bump. “We’ll get a hotel room,” he breathed. Otabek hummed. “And I’ll take care of you. Your every whim, you won’t have to lift a finger. And I’ll fuck you so sweetly, you’ll forget everything. Does that sound good, baby?” 

“Yeah.” Beka’s eyes were closed, and he tilted his head, baring his neck to Yuri. “I know a few hotels we can go to. I’m just worried about my… never mind.”

Yuri grinned, gently nipping his scent gland. “I can’t wait.” He should ask more about that never mind, but prying too much was a sure fire way to get Otabek mad at him. He was so not looking for an argument tonight. Especially not as Beka started to slowly grind against his crotch.  Otabek hummed, leaning against his chest, and grabbing Yuri’s hands to bring them tighter around his waist. Yuri pressed his palms into the firm muscle, pulling him tight and nearly moaning when Otabek rolled his hips, pressing firmly against his cock. “We should start now. For practice.”

Beka chuckled, turning around to straddle Yuri’s thighs. “You really think we need practice?” 

Yuri swallowed, cupping his jaw as he stared right into Beka’s eyes. They were so wide and dark and his eyelashes were just so thick and long. He was beautiful, it made Yuri breathless. He had no clue how he had gotten so lucky to find this exotic beauty in his best friend. Even before he had found out that he was an omega, before they had even started dating or were friends really, he’d nearly dropped a barbell on his foot when Otabek had told him hi at the gym. 

“Practice never hurts,” he mumbled, leaning in to capture Otabek’s lips. 

Beka smiled, wiggling out of his pants, and gently tossing his bear against the pillows. Yuri laid him against the mattress, stretching his arms over his head, running his fingers along his triceps following the dips in smooth, golden skin, across his collar bones and down his chest, tweaking dark nipples, and ghosting his fingers in the valley between his pecs, tickling his ribs, then spanning his hands across his hips. He crawled over him, pressing his body into the mattress, and nipped along his jawline. Otabek’s chest was heaving, rib cage digging into Yuri’s stomach with each inhale, and his full lips were parted ever so slightly, pink tongue peeping between. His cheeks were dusted with red now and he held onto Yuri’s shoulders, fingers digging into the muscle. Beka was probably going to leave little bruises along his arms, but just the thought of Beka marking him like that made his cock twitch. 

Bucking up into him, Otabek moaned softly, thighs spreading wide around Yuri’s hips. He could feel him hard against his stomach, slick already dampening Yuri’s underwear. They didn’t waste much time after that. He shoved his underwear down his legs with one hand, the other moving to Beka’s entrance. Otabek squirmed, chewing at his lip as he adjusted the angle of his hips to urge Yuri on. Yuri breathed in deeply, the scent of Beka’s arousal filled all his senses and his slick was thick and warm against his fingers. He pressed his mouth to Beka’s breathing in his moans, nibbling at his lip, and feeling every inch of his body as he trembled when Yuri circled his entrance with his index finger. Otabek broke the kiss, gasping when Yuri slipped a finger into him. The slick muscles contracting around his finger made Yuri’s stomach tighten even further, a growing fire that spread right to the tip of his cock. 

Beka’s fingers were definitely leaving bruises on his arms, and he had latched onto Yuri’s neck, sucking and lapping at his scent gland as Yuri worked him open. The sensation had been strange at first, feeling almost like pressing a bruise, the gland was sensitive, but the little vibrations and electric shocks gave him goosebumps now, and made his chest tighten, fire ignite in his stomach, and his cock twitch. He hissed when Beka grazed his teeth over the gland, but jumped when a callused hand was suddenly skillfully pumping his cock.

“Hey, baby,” his voice was hoarse, and he bit his lip when Otabek pressed his thumb to the underside of his cockhead, spreading precum along the shaft. “You don’t-”

Beka’s lips moved against his neck, his breath steamy. “Not letting you do all the work.”

Yuri hummed, cupping the side of Beka’s face with his free hand. “I love you so fucking much.” 

“It’s just a handjob, Yura,” Beka’s smile was evident in his voice.

“Not that, dummy.” He curled his fingers inside of him, and Beka shuddered, gasping loudly. “All of it.” 

He didn’t know how long he spent working him open, but he knew if he spent any more time he was literally going to burst. Beka was still toying with his cock with slow feather-like strokes, alternating between concentrating on his head and the sensitive base where his knot would form. Laying Otabek flat on his back again, he settled between his thighs and lined himself up. 

Beka stared down his body, gaze narrowing on Yuri’s cock and he licked his lips, clenching the bedsheets in his fists. Yuri grinned, pecking him on the tip of his nose as he pushed in. Otabek’s eyes fluttered shut and his mouth fell open with a sharp intake of breath and a silent moan. 

“You okay, baby,” Yuri breathed kissing down the side of his neck. He forced himself to still, core trembling as Otabek’s silky walls contracted around him. He was still so tight, but his walls were moving as if trying to pull Yuri in deeper. He fisted a hand in the sheets, yelled at himself not to move yet. 

Beka hummed, throwing his head back. “I’m good,” he sounded breathy and a bit strained. “So good.” 

Heat rushed downwards and Yuri grinned as he nipped at Beka’s scent gland. Otabek groaned, his walls tightening and Yuri felt fresh slick seep from his rim when he pulled out. Fuck. He swallowed but his mouth was so dry, and his cock was practically throbbing even though he was still half inside. Beka whimpered when he thrust back in wrapping his arms around Yuri’s shoulders and burying his face at his neck. Yuri felt teeth nip at his scent gland, shooting like lightning down his veins and straight to his cock. He jerked in, his hips smacking into Beka’s ass with a wet squelch. 

Otabek hummed, bucking his hips to meet him. 

“No, you don’t need practice,” his sentence was broken by little moans and whimpers. His lips were already starting to look slightly swollen and red, and his eyes were half lidded as he stared up at Yuri. 

Grinning and laughing like some idiot, Yuri duck his head and kissed Otabek so deeply, his hips stilled. Beka’s fingers tangled in his hair, scrabbling to undo his bun. Yuri’s hair tickled his back when he got it loose and it immediately fell over their faces getting in between their sealed lips. 

Otabek was smiling when Yuri pulled back to tuck his hair behind his ears. His fingers were kneading the back of Yuri’s skull and his thighs fell open wide, inviting Yuri in deeper. Yuri smoothed down his eyebrows then traced the gentle curve of his nose, before kissing the upturned tip. He let his hands wonder downwards, over Beka’s shoulders, down his sides and hips, he hooked his arms under thighs just taking a second to run his fingers along the crease where the thick muscles of his thighs pillowed into the softer rounds of his ass. He picked him up, tilting the angle of his hips and pushing in deeper. Otabek’s hand tightened in his hair, pulling almost painfully. 

Yuri kissed him, breathing him in and digging his fingers into the meat of his thighs as he picked up his pace. Sparks wet jumping all over his body starting at his cock. Little moans were leaking from Otabek’s mouth each time they parted for quick breaths. The bed frame was creaking in time with their thrusts and the sheets were spilled all over the floor, but Otabek was squirming underneath him, and that was all Yuri cared about. The thick thighs tight around his hips, the fingers pulling at his hair, his hot mouth, silken tongue, firm, bulging muscles, and of course the soft encompassing heat drawing him in and squeezing his cock, was all he needed. And just the idea of sharing this with Beka in Almaty, in some posh hotel where they could order room service and Yuri could treat him like a prince and when he was in heat no less, Yuri could wait. It was going to be perfect. 

They woke up the next morning tangled in each other. Yuri’s knot had gone down while they were both asleep and he had slipped free, but Otabek was still pulled close to him. Yuri kissed his forehead, stretching his arms overhead until his shoulders popped. 

“How are you that stiff?” Beka mumbled, nuzzling against his chest. His voice was heavy with sleep, so low and gravely it shook Yuri’s chest. 

“Dunno.” 

“You need to stretch out properly after practice. Or do some yoga or something.” 

“Yeah, right.” 

“I’ll sign you up for a Pilates class next week.” 

Yuri rolled his eyes. “Only if you’re teaching.” 

Otabek scoffed, pressing his nose to the centre of Yuri’s chest. “I only have morning sessions.”

“Well then, no thanks.” 

He scoffed, sitting up and stretching as well. Yuri watched as the sheets pooled in his lap. He trailed his eyes up cut abs, starting at the patch of feathery, dark hair under his navel, where the sheet didn’t quite cover. Otabek was like a Roman statue, but instead of marble he was solid gold. Yuri wasn’t even as cut as him, he tried, but his body was determined to stay as lean as possible. Only his calves and thighs could compete, but that was from hours of gruelling track practice. Beka was perfect and he had worked his ass off for it, but there was still no denying his omega features; his face was soft and his waist, rib cage, and shoulders were far narrower than the alphas and betas at his gym, but his hips and ass could make them cry. Especially when he wore shorts or leggings, Yuri had to pinch himself to keep from jumping on him whenever he wore them. Yuri had an entire album dedicated to Otabek’s ass in leggings. Most of them were stealth pics, but even when Otabek had found out what he did he didn’t get angry or make him delete them. He would refute it until he died, but Yuri knew that a part of him liked being called hot or beautiful. And he was extremely proud of his ass; Yuri had caught him staring at himself in the bathroom mirror many times before. 

“Stop staring,” Otabek yawned, pressing a palm to Yuri’s face. “You’re creepy.”

Yuri licked his plam, and Otabek grimaced pulling away. “That’s not what you said last night.”

He rolled his eyes, stretching his arms over his head as well. “Fuck off.” 

There was giant purple bruise on the side of Beka’s neck and a few smaller red ones around his collar bones. Yuri imagined that he must look similar, maybe even worse because he was that much paler. He reached up, gently running his thumb over the darkened skin. Otabek raised an eyebrow, giving him a small smile. 

“Good morning, baby,” Yuri grinned, cupping his cheek and ghosting his thumb under his bottom lip. 

Otabek’s cheeks took on a pink tinge and he pressed his cheek into Yuri’s palm. Beka hadn’t admitted to liking being called baby, but he kind of melted every time Yuri said it. He got that tiny smile and ducked his head, eyes softening so slightly, and he always would lean into Yuri’s touch. It was adorable, and especially so because Beka tried his hardest not to be adorable. 

“Morning,” he replied and Yuri wanted to wake up like this for the rest of his life. 


	2. Chapter 2

The last two weeks of practice were almost torture. Yuri had gone to the gym with Otabek over the new year holiday but getting back into sprints and jumping hurdles was still exhausting. The first practice had him flat out on his back, gasping for breath alongside the other sprinters. Adya had been catching up to him, but his times for both the 100 and 200 metre were still the best on the team. And he planned to keep it that way, especially with only one more semester to go before he graduated. He had a reputation to uphold after all. Coach’s pep talk after the last practice was supposed to have been encouraging, but Yuri’s stomach still tightened in anxiety and he dropped down to the ground, bending over his thighs and grabbing his ankles. The stretch burned and he couldn’t hold back a grunt that made Ana ask if he was okay. 

Otabek helped him to pack, then forced him to bed the night before the flight to Almaty. Yuri was too hyped to sleep, he’d been pacing his room while Beka folded up his clothes into neat squares and would have worn a circle into the floor if he hadn’t pulled Yuri into a deep, slow kiss, carding his fingers through his hair.

“Hey,” he said, voice firm but expression soft. “You’re gonna win this.” 

Yuri licked his lips, none of the anxiety lessening. He wasn’t even nervous about the meet, well no more than usual. Yakov, the national coach who had been talking to him about his career after graduating, was going to be there. He was used to his competitions being high stakes. Just the first meet of his last semester, no big deal. He swallowed, trying to steady his bouncing leg.

“Yuriyim,” Beka breathed against his cheek, shuffling closer and pressing himself against Yuri’s side.

“I’m fine,” he mumbled. “Just thinking.” 

“About?” 

“First meets always suck; I should have trained more-”

“Overtraining is a thing too.”

“Adya’s catching up to me.” 

“Adya’s your teammate; he’s not your competition yet.” 

Yuri clenched his palms over his knees. “No one is allowed to beat me.” 

Beka nudged him with his elbow. “Stop that. You know you can’t win everything.”

Yuri took a deep breath. Yeah, he more than knew that. “I was joking.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Sometimes I’m not sure about that.” Yuri chewed his lip. Otabek sighed softly and kissed his cheek. “So, my dad invited us over for dinner.”

Yuri groaned. And that was the other thing; he was going to meet Otabek’s dad. He never made a good first impression on anyone; he already knew it wasn’t going to go well. 

“Anything I should know beforehand?”

Otabek hesitated with his lips parted. “I… just be patient with him.”

“What does that even mean?” He rolled his eyes. “Is he like a child? Do I have to treat him like Hikari?” Beka snorted, and flicked Yuri’s ear. “I mean your mom divorced him and took you two out of the country for a reason, right?”

“Yeah.” He rolled his eyes, standing up and stretching his arms over his head. Yuri could practically see his muscles moving under his thin t-shirt. “He’s a sexist asshole. I’ve told you before, Yura. Makes no sense getting mad about it again.” 

“I’m not going to get mad.”

“Right.” He pulled Yuri’s desk chair out and sat on it backwards, folding his arms across the backrest and resting his chin against them. 

“I just don’t understand.” He lay down sideways on the bed, stretching his legs out, hips and knees popping. “Your mom is so sweet, how can anyone be mean to her?”

“I don’t know either. But my dad’s family is weird.”

“Weird?”

He bit his lip. “Like really aggressive and loud. They get angry a lot.” 

Yuri didn’t like how that sounded. He knew _he_ was hotheaded and aggressive, but Beka always called him out when he was being dumb. “He didn’t hit you or anything. Or your mom.” 

“No. He came close a few times, though. I’m not scared of him now; I can handle him if he tries anything.”

Yuri bit back a grin. “That’s why I love you.”

Otabek rolled his eyes, but he was smiling now. “Oh, did I tell you? I guess one of my uncles was giving him a hard time about his firstborn being an omega-”

“Oh my god, is that a thing?”

“Yeah, kinda. You alphas are basically gold.” Yuri scoffed. “Anyway, my dad punched him in the face and they haven’t said a word to each other since.” 

“Holy shit. That’s fucked up.” Well, it was good that he’d stand up for his son, but to hold a grudge for like twenty-four years? Hikari was barely three, and annoying as fuck, but he could never hate her. Or not speak to her for twenty years. 

“Yeah.” He sighed, pressing his forehead to his arms and hiding his face. “Anyway. I told him to behave properly, but I just know he’s going to say or do something dumb. Don’t get angry; I don’t want him to hold it against you.” 

Yuri grumbled, rolling onto his back and staring at the ceiling. “I’ll try.” Beka knew he’d do anything for him. He’d try, but Beka’s father didn’t seem promising. 

 

Beka came with Viktor and Hikari to drop him off at the airport at six am. Katsudon offered him a sleepy hug and mumbled good luck before passing back out. Hikari gave him a wet kiss and sticky hug - why was she always sticky? - and began to sniffle when Viktor picked her up. Yuri forced himself not to roll his eyes, and gave her a cheeky grin. 

“Hey, don’t you dare.” He pointed at her. She gulped audibly, hugging Viktor tighter. “I’ll be back soon, _ ruypka _ , so make sure you give Papa and Batya as much trouble as you can.” 

Viktor scowled at Yuri as Hikari began to giggle. “Don’t listen to him, baby. You  _ always _ be good, okay?” 

Yuri stuck out his tongue and spun on his heel, waving at them from over his shoulder.

“I’m amazed she likes you at all; you’re so mean to her,” Beka hummed, following him to where a few of Yuri’s teammates were gathered in front of the check-in counter. 

Yuri shrugged. “She’s Viktor’s kid - dumb as a rock.” 

He pinched him and kissed him goodbye and good luck in front of the whole team. He spent enough time with his teammates for everyone on the team to know he and Beka were pretty serious, but as Beka waved goodbye before the security checkpoint Sanuk leaned over and asked Yuri what he had done to get so lucky. Yuri blushed until they boarded the plane. 

Unfortunately, the flight the team was on was full by the time Otabek came to book his ticket, so he ended up having to fly out the next day. But the team had gotten there a day early to check out the facilities and practice, and Yuri’s first day in Almaty was packed full. 

Otabek met him at the hotel after he’d showered from practice and they took a taxi to his father’s house together. He was clearly in pre-heat now, and even though he insisted that he was fine, Yuri could tell that the cramps were starting and he was tired. He’d worn a thick coat and scent blockers on the flight but as he snuggled next to Yuri in the taxi he caught a whiff of Beka’s natural scent, building and changing becoming so much sweeter and stronger. 

“You okay, Bekem?” Yuri mumbled against his temple.

Otabek hummed. “Yeah, just uh, remember to play nice.” 

“I know.” 

Otabek sighed, his breath hot against Yuri’s neck. “I know you know, but just try, please.” 

Yuri grumbled. “Do I have to meet him? Can we just eat out instead?” 

“Yura.” 

“Ugh, fine.” 

Beka’s dad actually didn’t live too far from the hotel the team was staying at. It was only a ten minute drive to a small neighbourhood made of apartment complexes, townhouses, well kept sidewalks and shrubbery. He helped Beka out of the taxi, noticing that he was massaging his stomach during the last bit of the ride. He’d need to ask him about painkillers later. 

Otabek’s dad met them at the door and grabbed Otabek’s suitcase from him even though he seemed to struggle with it more than Beka. He was short, well, shorter than Yuri, but that wasn’t a very uncommon thing. Yuri could tell, when he was sizing him up, that he wasn’t too happy about it either. Otabek definitely looked more like his mother, with his upturned nose and slightly slanted eyes. His father had a short, neat beard, bushy eyebrows, thin lips, and a long pointed nose. His shoulders were narrow, and Yuri could easily tell that he didn’t get much exercise. In all, he wasn’t impressed. Especially not after the stories he’d heard of him. 

He wasn’t fooled when Otabek went up to hug him and he kissed his forehead, holding him tight, and mumbling something sweetly in Kazakh. He noticed the subtle sniff and frown before Otabek pulled away. 

“Beka.” He squeezed his shoulders, smiling. “I’ve missed you so much. You look well.” 

Beka grinned his eyes softening and his entire posture relaxing. Yuri bit his lip, something weird building in his stomach. Well, even after all the stories, Beka still must have some love left for him. Maybe he wasn’t  _ all _ bad? “You too,  _Ӓ_ _ke_ ,” he said softly. “Is work getting better?”

He smiled, gently patting Otabek’s cheek. “Not entirely.” He finally released his son and turned to Yuri expectantly. In seconds, Yuri’s skin began to prickle. 

“This is Yuri,” Otabek said, pulling away from the hug. “My boyfriend.” 

Yuri shook his hand when Beka pulled him forward. Okay, this was Beka’s dad, no big deal. He smiled, hoping it didn’t come out creepy or threatening. 

“Ah,  _ this _ is Yuri. You’re different than what I pictured, from Beka’s stories.”

Huh? His smile faltered. “Stories?” He eyed Otabek who was pinching the bridge of his nose, already blushing. 

“He said you were a track athlete?”

“Yeah. Sprinter.” 

He hummed, sizing him up again. “I don’t know much about the sport but aren’t you-”

“That’s why he’s so tall,” Otabek cut him off, and began to chew his lip. “Longer strides.” Okay, where was that about to go? Also, his skin just would not stop prickling. “He has the fastest time for the 100 and 200 meter on the university team.” 

Yuri let out a slow, deep breath, pressing his palm to the small of Beka’s back. Otabek leaned into him slightly, calming down and tucking his hands into his pockets. 

“Yeah, anyway, it’s nice to meet you, sir,” Yuri said through his teeth. 

“Alpha, correct?” Otabek’s dad nodded, staring at him again.

“Huh?” 

“I was told you are an alpha. Is this correct?” 

Otabek groaned softly, gently squeezing Yuri’s hand. 

“Yes, uh-”

“Good. Your hair had me fooled; it’s so long.” 

He raked a few hairs around his temple back to his ponytail. What even? So, alphas’ hair didn’t grow? Was he required by law to keep it short? “Um...” Yuri took a deep breath, trying to quell the prickling at the back of his neck. He could feel Beka tense beside him and he forced a smile. Right, play nice. He owed Beka that much at least. “Thanks for having us for dinner.” 

“Are you two hungry?”

“Yeah, I’m starving. Practice was a killer.”

Otabek’s father smiled. “You had practice  _ today _ ? The food should be here soon.” 

Dinner was takeout from a nearby restaurant. Otabek’s father had lived by himself since the divorce and apparently he wasn’t much of a cook. The food seemed good; it was a bit greasy, but at least there was a lot of meat. 

“I suppose since you’re on vacation, Beka,” Beka’s dad hummed, watching him spoon out some noodles and sauce onto his plate. “You're indulging more than normal.” 

Beka paused, his throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Yeah.” 

“ _ Yeah _ ?” 

He ground his teeth, Yuri raised an eyebrow as he set the styrofoam container down on the table with enough force that some sauce spilled over the sides. “Yes, _Ӓ_ _ ke _ .” 

“You need to be careful. You’re already so big.” 

Yuri’s eyes bulged. Big? What the fuck? “But it’s all muscle though.” Yuri frowned. “He barely has an ounce of fat anywhere.” Otabek’s eyes flickered to him, and a small, barely-there smile played on his lips. Yuri squeezed his thigh under the table. 

His father's eyes narrowed and okay, he and Beka had the same death glare. “I don’t see why he needs all that muscle. It’s very unattractive for an omega.” 

Oh well fuck. No wonder Otabek had chosen to live with his mother. “I think it’s attractive.” 

“You used to be so pretty, Beka. Before this gym nonsense.” 

What the fuck? 

“I like how I am now.” 

“No one wants an omega bigger or stronger than them. No alpha likes that.”

Yuri’s frown deepened as he tried to figure out if Otabek’s dad was actually serious. Okay, this was past  _ traditional  _ this was plain out sexist. Beka’s hand was suddenly covering his on his thigh and he realised his fingers were digging into his muscle. He massaged the spot in apology. 

“ _ I _ like it,” he ground out, glaring. Otabek’s father raised an eyebrow. “I like that he can take care of himself. And that he’s independent and doesn’t have to rely on me for dumb shit like opening jars-”

“It’s a pity how lazy you young alphas are. Taking care of your partner should be the first thing on your mind. You’re still in university, am I right?” 

Yuri bristled, but Beka was massaging his knuckles. He took a calming breath. “This is my last semester-”

“And then what? What’s your degree in?” 

Yuri ground his teeth, holding back a snarl. If this fucker would stop cutting him off. “Mechanical engineering.” Otabek’s father clearly did not expect that; he was unable to keep the surprise off his face. Yuri smirked. He’d be in school until he died, and possibly lose all his hair, but after a long talk with Viktor and Katsudon right before he graduated high school, he felt it was the right decision. Plus, Otabek's father didn't need to know that he'd had to take summer courses just to make sure he'd graduate on time. A two year program for his Masters in Mechanical Engineering would come, a _ fter _ his track career had run its course, though. 

He nodded, fixing his gaze on Yuri. “And you’re able to balance academic and athletics?” 

“I’ve been doing well enough.” 

“Good, good. Maybe you can convince Beka to move up in his career.” 

Otabek rolled his eyes. “I like my job and it pays well.” 

“Are you still at that  _ gym _ ?” 

“ _ Yes _ .” 

“And he’s the best trainer there-“

“Yes. A physical trainer with an online degree. It seems like a good job now, but in a few years, when you settle down and start a family, you need something better.” 

This fucker. What would he know? He had never set foot in a gym in his life. He didn’t know how many tests and certifications Beka had to go through to get licensed. And his gym was actually one of the best in their part of town. Just because he didn’t have some sort of six figure desk job, he wasn’t good enough? 

“And something more suited to an omega. What will you tell your kids when you come home all sweaty and tired everyday?”

Yuri’s eyes nearly bulged. “That he’s a kickass physical trainer, and Pilates  _ and _ kickboxing instructor!” He ignored the fact that his stomach was literally twisting at the word ‘kids’. 

He hummed raising his eyebrow at Yuri, almost challenging him, like what he’d just said was so incredibly wrong. He’d never wanted to punch someone more in his life. 

And he wasn’t even done yet. Yuri was shocked when Otabek’s father glared at his son until he got up and started to clear the table. Yuri moved to help, but was stopped, because he was a guest and alphas don’t need to be in the kitchen. Otabek clattered the dishes more than was necessary. Yuri bit his lip, watching him disappear into the kitchen. He must have been so exhausted, his father knew how long the flight had been, and he had smelled him; he had to have known that he wasn’t feeling his best either. God, he really was some kind of asshole. He had called Yuri lazy and said he didn’t want to take care of Beka, but here he was sitting on his ass watching as his son cleaned up after him. 

Grinding his teeth, Yuri grabbed the leftovers and closed the styrofoam containers. 

“I’ll just put these away,” he pulled on a fake, cheery voice. “It’s the least I can do to thank you for dinner.”

And before he could protest Yuri followed Beka to the kitchen. 

“He’s a fucking nightmare,” Yuri whispered, setting the containers down on the counter next to the fridge. 

Otabek scoffed, rinsing off the plates and silverware. “Yeah. Now you know how we ended up in Russia with my mom.” 

“How could anyone marry him?” 

“She was young and foolish and he was older with a good job.” 

“Ugh.” Yuri rolled his eyes, opening the fridge and nearly wincing at the amount of take-out containers and pre-packaged meals jammed on the shelves. “Does he even know how to cook?” 

“Alphas don’t cook.”

“Oh my God. He is slowly killing himself.” 

“His pride is more important.” Yuri turned around just in time to see him pause and take a deep breath through his nose, eyes falling shut for a moment and jaw clenching. Yuri ground his teeth together; he should have been resting, curled up with his bear and blanket, in bed with a hot-water bottle, not washing dishes and keeping fucking house. 

“How’re you doing, though?” He wrapped his arms around Otabek’s waist, tucking him under his chin. 

Otabek leaned back against him. “I’m okay. I think I just have to go to bed early tonight.”

“Do you have any painkillers? Do you need me to run to a pharmacy?” 

“I’m okay, Yura, really.” Yuri sighed, burying his nose in his hair, and kissing the top of his head. “But you really should get back to my dad.”

“Don’t wanna.” He kissed the shell of his ear. Otabek sighed softly, tilting his head sideways in encouragement before he caught himself.

“ _ Yuri _ .” He pinched the back of his wrist. 

Yikes, he used his full name. Yuri grumbled on the way out of the kitchen. 

Otabek’s father guided him to the living room, and offered him a choice between some expensive vodka and scotch. He declined, since he really shouldn’t have alcohol before a big race. If he was offended Otabek’s father didn’t show it, but insisted he sit down on the square, leather couch while he poured himself a glass. 

Yuri hadn’t seen many of Beka’s baby pictures, but there was one of him and his sister proudly displayed on the coffee table. Otabek was probably around four or five - his sister was still a baby, but Yuri was surprised at how small he was, even compared to the baby on his lap he was miniscule. Well, he already knew Otabek was pretty small, but seeing him as a child without muscles with fluffy, chin-length hair, was laughable. His resting bitch face was more of a pout on little, heart-shaped lips and chubby cheeks. His nose hadn’t changed at all and his eyelashes looked even longer, and his eyes were so wide and dark, almost like doe-eyes, but with a certain level of awareness for a child. Yuri hated kids, but Beka had been adorable. 

Otabek’s father noticed him staring. “Yes, he was such a pretty child. But always so serious. Nothing we did could get him to smile for a picture.” Yuri chuckled, yeah that sounded right. “I used to hear it all the time; he could be such a pretty boy if he just smiled. But he’s just too stubborn, not good at taking orders at all. You’re laughing at that?” 

Yuri swallowed his chuckle. “Yeah. He’s very strong-willed.” 

He huffed. “Too strong willed.” Okay then. Yuri had to fight not to roll his eyes. “He needs a firm hand to settle him down. A strong alpha.” 

Um, so? Yuri stared at the picture wondering how someone as perfect as Beka could be related to this fucking idiot. “And you don’t think that’s me.” 

He hesitated, but Yuri already knew he meant yes. He sighed loudly. “You’re young. You’ll see what I mean later on.” 

Yuri ground his teeth. “Well I think, you need to re-evaluate a few things if you think that your son need to change to fit a bunch of dumb, antiquated traditions.” 

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah, you heard me.” He gripped the baggy fabric of his tracksuit pants. “I like how he is. I like that he’s strong-willed and isn’t obsessed with fitting in. I don’t want a mate whose only goal is to say ‘yes’ to me. He knows who he is and he has strong values that I can honestly stand behind. He’s not a typical omega, and I know that.” He swallowed, cheeks burning when he realised that Beka was standing in the doorway. “That’s why I chose him.” 

Otabek smiled, before his eyes dropped to his feet. His dad was staring at Yuri, though a weird expression had taken over his face. Yuri couldn’t tell if he was mad, but he looked like he was trying not to shit himself. Yuri waved Beka in, and pulled him down to sit next to him. 

“I, uh,” Beka swallowed, grabbing Yuri’s hand. “ _Ӓke_ , I got us tickets to Yuri’s meet, if you’re able to take time off from work.” 

Otabek’s father blinked, snapping himself out of his trance and took a long sip of scotch. “I believe I can.” He smiled at his son. Yuri wasn’t sure if it was fake or not. “It would be nice to spend some time with you.” He eyed Yuri. “And to see what your  _ boyfriend _ can really do.”

Okay, was that a challenge? ‘Cause there was no way he was going to lose any races now. 


	3. Chapter 3

Yuri had been stretching out his calves on a bench when his phone vibrated. He smiled when he saw the notification from Otabek. He had already video called him that morning just to double check the times of Yuri’s races. Yuri hadn’t been too happy to see how tired he looked or that he was already awake and making breakfast for his father.

Beka:  
Good luck, babe

Me:  
Thanks   
But let’s be honest. I’m gonna win this

Beka:  
Your humility is astounding

Yuri grinned, ignoring a few snickers from his teammates.

Me:  
Gold looks good on me

Beka didn’t reply but Yuri knew he was rolling his eyes.

 

The minutes right before a race always made Yuri jitter with anxiety. He was hopping on the balls of his feet, stretching his arms across his chest and scanning the crowd for any signs of a familiar face. He couldn’t make out any faces from track, but Beka had assured him that he and his father were seated and waiting. The 100 meter was his first race of the day. He was in the second of five heats and even though he knew his average time was better than most of the other sprinters, the race could literally go any way. He took a deep breath, smoothing down the number on his chest and dusting off a small fleck of sand from his thigh as he waited for the signal to drop to the starting block.

His stomach was twisting into knots and he adjusted his ponytail for what must have been the seventh time since getting onto the track. Okay, it wasn’t a big deal though. It was just like any other 100 meter, except with more important people watching. Scouts, Yakov, Beka’s father. God, he had to win. There was no question.

Finally the signal came and he stopped down into a crouch, setting his feet against the foot rests and ignoring the brush of his hair against his shoulder and bicep. He focused on the track, the rough, rust coloured ground and the stark white lines. Okay. Just a race. He breathed in right as the starting signal went off, an ear splitting bang and well that was it. His own breathing was loud in his ears, his footsteps were like small explosions and his hair stung his back and shoulders with each stride. 100 meters went by in an instant, he didn’t even hear the crowd screaming.

Okay, so he hadn’t won by much, he glared at the second place runner, some kid from America who was bending over his knees trying to catch his breath. Yuri set both hands on his hips, looking up at the sky, and taking deep breath after deep breath. Coach came up to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, grinning and guiding him away from the track.

“Wasn’t your best time, but you're moving on to the semi finals.”

Yuri grinned, grabbing his water bottle from below the bench. Just as expected there was a text from Beka waiting for him.

Beka:  
I knew it. You should have seen my dad’s face   
He actually asked me how you guys even run that fast.

Yuri grinned, leaning over his knees. Good, now maybe the bastard would stop criticising him.

Me:   
My time sucked tho

Beka:  
Stop it. You’re moving on that’s good and I know you’ll do better in the next race.

Yuri scoffed. Beka was way too nice.

Beka:   
Just remember deep breaths and try not to work yourself up.

Yuri rolled his eyes. Work himself up. Yeah right.

Coach gave him permission to go sit with Otabek until his next race and luckily Otabek’s father had gotten up to get food or something. Beka was curled up in his seat, his legs tucked against his chest with his arms wrapped around them, staring out at the track as athletes setup for triple jump. Yuri silently slipped into the seat next to him, and wrapped his arms around his shoulders.

Otabek jerked, shoving Yuri away with such force he nearly fell out of his seat. His shoulder hit him right in the centre of the chest, knocking most of the air from his lungs.  

“What the fuck - oh shit, Yura!” His eyes went wide and his already ashen face paled even more. “I’m sorry, I thought…”

“It’s okay,” Yuri coughed rubbing his chest. It was actually throbbing a bit. “I should have said something before.”

Otabek winced, ducking his head and glancing around and the people staring at them. “Are you okay?”

Yuri sat back down, pulling Beka against his chest and kissing his temple. The artificial smell of his scent blockers stung Yuri’s nose, but they did they job, Otabek’s natural scent was next to non existent. “I should be asking you that. You don’t look too good.”

Beka sighed softly, working his arms under Yuri’s jacket. “I’m okay.”

“You sure?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes. Just tired.”

“Cramps?”

He blushed slightly, hushing him and looking around. “ _No_.”

Yuri kissed his temple again. “You don’t have to stay for the evening session, though.”

He rolled his eyes, pushing Yuri away. “I said I’m fine. I have nothing else to do anyway. And my dad is going back to work at lunch.”

Yuri frowned. His dad was just leaving him alone? He thought that he had wanted to spend time with him. “Is he coming back tomorrow?” Yuri’s spine itched, well no wonder he didn’t look too happy either.

“Doubt. He said we can watch it on TV.”

As much as he hated to admit it, that might have been the better option, especially since Beka was so close to heat. And Yuri really didn’t like the idea of him sitting all alone when he wasn’t in the best shape. But telling him that wouldn’t be so easy. Chewing his lip, Yuri leaned closer.

“Hey, so, uh-”

Otabek rolled his eyes. “Don’t even start, Plisetsky. I don’t need two overbearing alphas breathing over my shoulder.”

Yuri sighed, leaning heavily against the backrest and stretching his legs out until they hit the seat in front of him. “Okay. I’m just saying it’s gonna be a long day and I know track meets aren’t the most exciting thing. I really wouldn’t mind you staying home if you feel sick-”

“Are you feeling sick, Beka?” Otabek’s dad appeared out of nowhere with a few packaged snacks and a bottle of water. He handed the water to Otabek.

Beka breathed out through his nose, sending Yuri an icy glare. “I’m fine, _Äke_ -”

Otabek’s father turned to Yuri for an explanation. Yuri swallowed, watching as Otabek pinched the bridge of his nose. Well, he couldn’t lie now, but Beka would kill him if he explained what was really going on. He grunted dismissively, staring at his lap. “It’s no big deal, just uh… omega stuff.”

Beka looked like he wanted to melt into his chair while his father’s face turned into stone. Okay, maybe that hadn’t been the right thing to say.

“You should come home with me at lunch, Beka.”

Yuri swallowed.

“No, the 200 meter is at-”

“Otabek,” he said as a warning. “You’re not staying here when you’re in this condition.”

“Condition?” Beka worked his jaw, glaring. “I’m not even… I said I was fine. I’m staying-”

“This isn’t an argument.”

Beka balled his hands into fists, and even though his face was calm, Yuri knew there was fury building. Shit, uh, he could fix this.

“Beka can stay with the team. It’s no big deal, if you're worried-”

He scoffed. “I’m not letting my son stay with a bunch of foreign alphas. He’s coming home.”

 

“Why did you have to tell him that?” Otabek complained over the phone. Yuri had stepped away from the table when his phone had rang and was pacing up and down the short hallway that lead to the restaurant bathrooms.

“I… uh. I didn’t think-”

“Of course you didn’t.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s like you didn’t want me there.”

“That’s not true. You know it isn’t. But he was looking at me, what was I supposed to say-”

“I know. I know.” His sigh was raspy over the speaker. “I just… you guys are overreacting.”

Yuri swallowed, pausing by an artificial plant tugging at one of the dusty leaves. “I want you to be somewhere safe when you’re in heat and a track meet-”

“I’m not even in heat! And somewhere safe? What the fuck? You damn well know I can take care of myself.”

Yuri winced, his stomach sinking like he hadn’t even managed to secure a spot in the final 100 and 200 meter races tomorrow. He wanted to argue. Beka could take care of himself, but a track meet was not the place for an omega about to go into heat. But they hadn’t come all the way to Almaty to fight.

“I appreciate you trying to look out for me,” Beka beat him to it. “But I know my own limits, and there was no need to send me home like that.”

“I didn’t send you home - ugh, never mind.”

There was a few moments of silence before Otabek cleared his throat. “So, are you up for celebrating tonight?”

“ _Celebrating_?”

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Plisetsky. I’m only taking you out for ice cream.”

Yuri snorted. “I wasn’t even thinking that. You’re the one in the gutter.”

When Yuri had said that he was going out for ice cream later, the team decided that it was a good idea to join him. He met Beka in the hotel lobby with a trail of teammates and another one of Yakov’s potential recruits, Mila, who had dominated the women’s field events that day. He had been a bit surprised to see her again, since they hadn’t spoken in person since last summer. He tried to get rid of her the moment she bounced up to him and nearly broke his neck by ruffling his hair, but she just laughed when he insulted her.

Beka was leaning against the wall by the snack bar, on his phone, with one leg casually crossed over the other. He was in a grey button-up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, black combat boots, and black leggings. Yuri’s throat went dry as he trotted up to him and set a hand on his waist.

“Leggings?” He asked, gently pressing their lips together.

Beka rolled his eyes, slipping his phone and wallet into Yuri’s pocket. “Shut up.”

Yuri chuckled, letting his hand slide from Otabek’s waist to pat his ass. “I’m not complaining.”

Otabek grabbed his hand and clicked his tongue. “It wasn’t for you. I just don’t want to wear jeans when I’m bloated.”

Yuri jerked back slightly, frowning as he looked Otabek up and down. “Bloated? Where?”

Beka stared at him and raised an eyebrow. “My fucking uterus, Plisetsky.”

Yuri bit his lip and backed off slightly. The next question was going to be ‘are you okay’ but he had a feeling Beka would rip out his tongue if he asked that again.

“Who’s this?” Mila popped up behind Yuri and smiling at Otabek.

Yuri ground his teeth, slipping to stand beside Otabek and wrap an arm around his waist, pulling him tightly against his side. His eyes narrowed; she was checking him out and not even being shy about it. Beka was hot, even more so when he showed off his legs like this. People always stared at him and Yuri responded with a smug smirk, tightening his hold just to make sure they knew that Beka was his. Mila knew Beka was taken, still Yuri’s gut twisted and an angry, black monster clenched its fist around his throat. He wrapped his hand tighter around Otabek’s waist, pulling him firmly against his ribs. Otabek leaned into him, resting his head against his chest. Yuri wasn’t sure if it was subconscious or if he was trying to get him to calm down.

“My boyfriend,” Yuri growled. “Otabek. Beka, this demon is Mila.”

Beka elbowed him in the ribs but Mila grinned, holding her hand out.

“I apologise for him,” Beka said, shaking her hand.

Mila chuckled, waving him off. “It’s okay, I know he’s overcompensating for something.”

Yuri sneered. “You wish.”

“How does a rude, gremlin like you have a boyfriend like _this_?”

He flipper her off.

Otabek glanced between them. “Do you two know each other?”

“No,” Yuri spat. “She’s insane and won’t leave me alone.”

Mila smiled brightly. “We trained together before at Yakov’s summer thing. And our high school teams were rivals.”

“ _Still_ rivals.”

“Isn’t he adorable?”

Otabek chuckled, nuzzling against Yuri’s chest. “He is.”

Yuri’s cheeks heated. “Shut up.”

 

Beka brought them to a small store with over thirty flavours of _morozhenoye_ and tiny white tables. Yuri chose a table while Beka got a bowl for them to share. The store was a bit packed, the summer heat meant good ice cream sales even so late at night. He watched Beka sit down next to him, leggings stretching as his muscles moved to hop onto the stool next to Yuri. Yuri grinned, kissing his temple once he was in reach.

“What?” He sounded a bit perplexed, touching the spot the Yuri had kissed.

“Nothing,” Yuri pulled the paper bowl towards him and stole Beka’s spoon. “What flavour did you get?” He poked at the chunky, brown ice cream.

“Dark chocolate almond.”

Yuri hummed digging the spoon into one of the scoops. It wasn’t bad, just a bit bitter. Otabek took the spoon back and kissed Yuri’s cheek in playful revenge.

“So, Beka - can I call you Beka?” Mila plopped into the seat across from them.

Otabek set his elbows on the table, hiding a grin behind his palm. This wasn’t good, Yuri swore internally; Beka was starting to like her. “Sure.”

“Why are you here?” Yuri growled. “You do realise this was supposed to be a _date_?”

She waved her hand, licking her bright green cone. “Why are you dating this brat?”

Otabek scoffed. “Believe it or not, he can be sweet sometimes.”

Yuri pinched the bridge of his nose. “Please don’t humour her.”

“You two are adorable. Makes me jealous. You don’t happen to have any brothers or sisters?”

Otabek raised an eyebrow, almost sizing Mila up. “She’s too young for you.” He said around a small scoop of ice cream.

Yuri scoffed. “I thought you were trying to get with that Italian chick.”

“Mmm, well you know.”

He rolled his eyes, kicking her under the table. “Suck it up, Baba. Just fucking ask her out already.”

“It’s not that simple-”

“Yes, _it is_. What’s the big deal? You like her and she clearly likes you too. And it’s not like you’re weird or ugly. Just go up to her and ask. God, how do you think I got Beka? He’s so out of my league.”

Otabek nudged him, blushing slightly.

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Mila sighed after a moment. “You two are so good looking it’s sickening. Watching you is like watching a prime-time drama.”

“If you’re not dating her by our next meet, don’t bother talking to me.”

Mila blinked owlishly before shaking her head and grinning. “Fine.”

They ended up staying at the ice cream shop until it closed. Most of the team had already gone back to the hotel, but there was nothing Yuri could say or do to get Mila to leave them alone. And Beka definitely liked her by the end of the night, so Yuri couldn't be completely mad. Beka was better at making friends than Yuri but that still didn't mean he had many. He wished her good luck for her events tomorrow after they walked her back to the hotel, and to Yuri's shock let her hug him. 

It was late by the time the taxi pulled up at Beka's dad's place, and it had been Yuri's intention to drop him off then get back to the hotel and sleep like the dead. But, Otabek’s body made a dull thud as Yuri pushed him against the front door, mouths clashing messily. He didn’t care that they were probably giving the taxi driver a show. He ran his palm along Beka’s thigh, before grabbing a handful of his ass and pulling their hips together. Beka moaned into the kiss, grabbing Yuri’s ponytail and threading his fingers roughly through the base. Already, heat was coursing through his veins, and the little spark in his stomach ignited while the front of his jeans grew tighter. Beka’s leggings weren’t much of a barrier, and Yuri could feel him growing hard as well. He slid a thigh between Beka’s legs, pressing up against his crotch. He ground down on him in response, fingers tightening in his hair and he broke the kiss to let out a soft breathy moan.

Pinning him against the door, Yuri attacked his neck next, the scent blockers were still strong, covering his ripe peachy scent with something clean and artificial, yet he could still taste him a bit. He ran his tongue along his scent gland, grinning to himself when Otabek shuddered and his hips ground down harder against Yuri’s thigh. He threw his head backwards, breath hitching as Yuri sealed his mouth around the small bump, sucking and lapping, occasionally dragging his teeth over this skin.

They really shouldn’t have been doing anything like this out in the open, but Yuri’s spine was tingling in warmth and there was no way he was going to stop when Beka was rolling his crotch so firmly against his thigh. The taxi driver could wait all night, and the idea of the neighbours watching actually made his cock twitch in his pants. Beka’s hum was soft and blissful, one of his hands dropping down to Yuri’s stomach, pressing into the muscle slightly before toying with his belt buckle. Yuri sunk his teeth into his neck and he felt Otabek’s chest rise in a short laugh. Then, he was palming the front of Yuri’s jeans and Yuri had to bite back a loud groan.

He sealed their mouths together again, nibbling at Beka’s bottom lip when he unbuckled his belt and undid his pants button. Their tongues tangled and Otabek’s fingers were like coals against Yuri’s stomach as they peeled back the waistband band of his underwear dragging his nails through the strip of hair below Yuri’s navel. The kiss grew messy, hot and hurried, Yuri hiked Otabek’s shirt up, fingers dancing over his obliques and ribs while he slowly began to move his thigh, pressing up into Beka as his rolls and thrusts became quick and heated. Yuri’s hair fell against his shoulders, Beka, pulling down his ponytail and at the same time he ran a single finger against Yuri's cock. He hissed softly, deepening their kiss as sparks of pleasure jolted up his cock from Beka’s fingers. He hand pulled down his underwear as much as he could pressing his palm against his shaft, fingertips reaching down to his balls.

Moaning softly, he drew Beka’s tongue into his mouth, letting him take the lead as he wrapped his hand around Yuri’s cock and rubbed himself against his thigh. He squeezed Beka’s ribs trying to hold onto something to keep himself grounded. As much as he wanted to fuck Beka hard against the door, he knew it would be a terrible idea. Still his chest was heaving and it was nearly impossible to catch his breath. And his stomach was quivering in both pleasure and excitement. They shouldn’t be doing this here, yet if felt so -

“Otabek?” The door knob jangled and dew open before either of them could react. Otabek nearly stumbled backward against his father and Yuri felt as if someone had dumped a bucket of cold water over his head. “What are you two doing?”

His father's eyes were nearly popping out of his head and he would have looked quite hilarious, if Yuri’s dick wasn’t hanging out of his pants and Otabek wasn’t practically humping his leg.

Well fuck.

“Mr… Mr Altin,” he floundered, licking his suddenly dry lips as he tried to subtly tuck himself back into his pants. Thankfully Beka was blocking him from view, but there was no way he could deny what was going on. The jingle of his belt buckle didn’t help either. “We thought you would be asleep by now.”

He actually turned red. “And so you decided to-to” he couldn’t even finish the sentence, grabbing Otabek by his arm and yanking him into the house. Something flashed across Otabek’s face, his eyes widened a fraction, but he didn’t pull away. “Get out! You stay away from my son! If I see you here again I’m calling the police!”

Yuri’s jaw dropped slightly as he looked from Otabek to his father. “What?”

“Dad-“

“What are you still doing here? I said get out!”

“Dad, calm down-“

“I don’t want to hear it, Otabek!” He pushed him into the house, then took a threatening step towards Yuri. “I don’t ever want to see you around my son again.”

Yuri glared down at him, the back of his neck itching. And okay he had been embarrassed at being caught, but now his blood was literally boiling and his vision was red. “Okay, so you’re going to follow us back to Russia?”

“Yura-“

“Get off my property!”

“Wow. You really think I’m scared of you? We weren’t even doing anything, you narrow minded fuck-“

He swung at him. Steam was literally coming out of his ears, Yuri saw him move, raise his fist as if it was in slow motion. But before he could counter, Otabek grabbed his father's wrist, holding him steady.

“ _Äke_!” His voice echoed, and his eyes were dark with anger and a disbelief. The weight of it all just hit Yuri then, too; he had literally just tried to punch him. What the fuck? He stared at Beka as he glared at his dad. Yuri had been on the receiving end of that stare  a few times; Beka was pissed. His jaw was tight and his nose was slightly flared. He didn't know if he'd yell at his own father, but either way his dad was pretty much done for. He seemed to realise that too, especially when he found out that he couldn't pull away from Beka's grip. Yuri snorted; yeah, he was pathetic. Well Beka was strong as fuck, but he was still pathetic. He took a deep breath, stuffing his fists into his pockets and took a step back. Okay, he wasn't supposed to fight, not matter what a fucking asshole Beka's dad was. He'd made a promise, and he was a shitty alpha sometimes, but there was no way he was going to break a promise to his mate. 

Beka's dad slowly turned from red to grey, looking at his hand still in Beka's grasp. But, if he even realised he was wrong he didn't say anything. “He needs to leave. Now!” He tried again to rip his arm away. Beka finally let him go, glaring as he pushed past him to Yuri. 

"You really should leave now, Yuriyim." He tiptoed to speak quietly into Yuri's ear, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. Yuri forced his anger down with a sigh. He wanted to strangle Otabek’s father or at least give him a bloody nose. But he couldn’t do that to Beka. He shoved his hands into his pockets and took a deep breath. "We can talk about this later, when my dad isn't around." He placed a gently kiss to Yuri's cheek then took a small step back into the house, staring at him, his eyes wide and sad and the rest of Yuri’s anger faded. He was right but, his stomach tightened around a chunk of ice and his entire mouth tasted bitter.

Still he offered Beka a small smile and sneered at his father.

“See you later, baby.” He winked before heading back to the taxi and waving over his shoulder.

Otabek’s grin was a stark contrast to his father’s outrage.


	4. Chapter 4

“So, Beka’s dad hates me.” Yuri tried not to let his voice shake as he picked at a split end from his ponytail. Yeah, he was due for a trim when he got back to Saint Petersburg. 

“Uhhh,” Katsudon’s voice echoed slightly from the phone speaker. “Why?”

“He’s an asshole.” 

“Yuri.”

“What, is the spawn still awake?”

“Don’t call me that!” Hikari popped onto Katsudon’s lap, throwing her little, fat arms around his neck and sticking out her tongue at him. Yuri rolled his eyes and stuck out his tongue as well. 

Katsudon sighed. “Yes, she is. Don’t you want to tell Yuri Niisan how good he was in the race?” 

Her eyes grew wide and she began waving her hands in the air. “Yeah! You went so fast! Like  _ zoooom _ and  _ pshhhhhheww _ !”

She was so weird. “Uh, thanks.”

Katsudon shook his head slowly, but Hikari wasn’t deterred by his lacklustre response. She slipped off of Katsudon’s lap and Yuri could tell she was running around from her footsteps. 

“Look, Papa, I’m fast like Niisan!” 

“Yeah, _solnyshka_ , you’re going to catch up to him very soon.” Viktor’s voice came from off camera. “But now it’s time for bed.”

There was a chorus of whines and Yuri rolled his eyes. She had been going to be at the same time for years now and she always threw a tantrum.

“Hikari,” Katsudon warned. “It’s bedtime.”

“But I’m not tired!” She ended in a squeal when Viktor probably scooped her up over his shoulder. 

God, children were so dumb. 

“Congratulations, Yurochka! We’ll have to celebrate when you come home.” Viktor’s face took up the screen a second later and Yuri saw Katsudon press his lips to his cheek. 

Yuri bit his lip. “The final isn’t even over yet. And I still have to run hurdles.”

“So, I’m not allowed to be proud of my son?” 

His stomach flopped and he let his phone fall against his chest, as a smile fought its way to his face. Why did Viktor always make him feel like this? “No, it’s just… I don’t want to relax until it’s over.”

Katsudon sounded a bit muffled. “Well, no matter what happens we’re both so proud of you.”

Viktor hummed. “But if you don’t bring home at least one gold medal you may as well just stay at Beka’s for a few weeks.”

“No!” Hikari yelled.

Yuri rolled his eyes. “Don’t you have a job to do, old man?” 

Viktor grinned, blowing him a kiss. Yuri pretended to gag. 

“So what was that about Otabek’s dad?” Katsudon asked once they were alone again. 

Yuri took a deep breath, his stomach sudden rolling and on fire. “He’s a sexist asshole.”

“Yu-”

“I’m serious! You should hear what he tells Beka. He was saying how he needs to lose weight or no alpha would want him, and he acts like he’s still a kid and tells him what he can or can’t do.”

“Okay, that’s kind of... uh, what does Otabek say?”

Yuri sighed. “He doesn’t like it obviously. But it’s _Beka_. He doesn't really say anything; he just takes it.”

Katsudon sighed again. “So, maybe that’s for Otabek and his dad to work out?”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “If someone called Viktor ugly or told him he was dumb and superficial for being a supermodel wouldn’t you punch their lights out?”

Katsudon's expression hardened and he clenched his jaw. “I - please tell me you didn’t punch Otabek’s father!” His eyes widened halfway through his sentence. 

“No. I  _ want _ to, though.” Yuri ground his teeth together. “He caught us… making out and, well, it ended with him telling me to leave or he’d call the police.”

“What the fuck?” Yuri’s eyes widened; it was so rare that Katsudon swore that it made Yuri’s spine itch and his jaw almost dropped. Katsudon was frowning now. “What did Beka do?” 

Yuri shrugged. “Well, he uh, he stopped his dad from attacking me-”

“What the actual fuck-”

“And he didn’t really say anything, his dad kept on cutting him off, but we figured that I should just leave and we could talk about it later.” 

Katsudon took a deep breath, his eyes falling shut for a moment. “Okay. You weren’t lying about the asshole part. Honestly, I would have probably punched him too, but,” he shook his head, and adjusted his glasses. “I think you and Otabek need to have a talk about how much his father really means to him. Part of Otabek’s charm is that he isn’t a typical omega and if his father wants  him to be some cookie-cutter omega, then that’s not going to work out for anyone. But that’s Otabek’s problem,  _ not _ yours. The last thing I want is a phone call from the Kazakhstani police, Yuri.” Yuri rolled his eyes. “I mean it. Don’t push yourself between them trying to  _ protect _ Otabek, ‘cause that’s going to backfire on you in more ways than one.” 

“Yeah, I know.” Beka would absolutely hate if he did that. God, why was Katsudon so smart? 

“Anyway, just concentrate on you races, and play the nice game with Otabek’s dad.”

Yuri sneered. “Why do I have to be nice to him?”

Katsudon smirked. “So you won’t give him any real reason to hate you other than him being an asshole. And, it’ll piss him off more.”

Yuri couldn’t help but laugh. Honestly, Katsudon was like a fountain of useful information. Okay, he could annoy the shit out of a Beka’s dad. 

“And support Otabek in whatever he wants to do,” he went on. “That’s the most important thing. Okay?” 

Yuri nodded, sighing softly before gently  bumping the back of his head against the wall. “Yeah, thanks,” he took a short breath. “Dad.” 

Katsudon’s toothy grin was enough to make his stomach twist with fluttery warmth and his chest expand to match. 

 

Beka called Yuri later that night; his father wasn’t happy at all. And Yuri honestly wished he had been there when Beka told him off. Of course Beka wasn’t a little kid any more and the fact that his father tried to treat him like one was infuriating. And he had been completely out of line earlier. 

“He was pretty much speechless, Yuriyim,”  Beka told him. “I've seen him mad before, but it was different this time.” 

“He's scared of you,” Yuri grinned. “You stopped him from punching me like it was nothing. Very hot, by the way.”   


Beka scoffed. “Maybe. I guess that's why he didn't say anything when I tried to talk to him about it.”

“He's such an asshole.”

“... Yeah. He, uh, yelled at me when I went back to my room though. Said I wasn't allowed to go to the meet tomorrow.”

“Are you serious?”  


“I’m still coming though,” Beka grumbled. Yuri scoffed, stretching his feet out along the ugly patterned carpet of the hallway. He should have been sleeping, but nothing short of chaining himself to the bed would work. “Yeah, he’s gonna rant and rave, _again_ , but I…” he swallowed, “I’m past caring.” Yuri hummed in agreement. “I mean, like, I don’t really like making him upset, but everything I do makes him upset, so…”

“Don’t waste your time on him, Bekem-”

“Yeah, but he’s still my dad, and I love him.” 

Yuri honestly didn’t see how he could. But the fact that he was even talking this much about it meant that he was really shaken. He didn’t need Yuri’s bitterness to be the cherry on this whole shit-cake. “Yeah, but if he causes this much stress...”

Beka sighed heavily. “I told him to back off, that I’m and adult and can take care of myself so I don’t need or want his input, but that’s just how he is and nothing I do or say will change it.” 

Yuri was silent for a few beats, pressing his fingers to a bleach spot on the carpet. “So what do you wanna do about it?” 

“I don’t know. But I’m coming tomorrow, I don’t care if he gets mad.” Yuri grinned, imagining Beka running his hand through his hair in frustration, messing it up every way he could. “I’m pissed off at him too. He’s not the only one who can get mad. I’m not going to duck my head and tiptoe-”

“Good. Don’t let him win.” 

Otabek chuckled. “It’s not about winning, babe. But I’m coming tomorrow no matter what.”

Yuri bit his lip; he could ask coach if Beka could sit with the team just to be safe. He’d have a lot more fun that way too; everyone on the team liked him. 

Still, he didn’t sleep well that night, but seeing Beka in his team jacket the next day was enough motivation to win any race. He let Yuri drape his jacket over his shoulders before he guided him past security and to the athletes' lounge. Despite how it looked, Yuri had broader shoulders than Otabek. They’d both been shocked when they measured for a suit jacket after Yuri had discovered that he couldn’t fit into Otabek’s. Yuri’s track jacket was a few sizes too big for him and the arms completely hid his hands. It also didn’t help that he kept on bringing the collar to his nose to smell. Though as adorable as he looked, Yuri could tell instantly that he wasn’t feeling well. 

The smell of scent blockers was so strong it was practically wafting from his pores. And while it wasn’t an unpleasant smell, it wasn't something he liked breathing in. Beka quietly sat with Yuri for most of the morning, barely interacting with the team more than he had to. Even when Mila stopped by, he offered her a small smile and a soft hello, not even lifting his head from Yuri’s chest. He got up to cheer with the rest of the team when Yuri ran the 100m final, but as the day wore on he got quieter and sleepier. When the time came for the men’s 200m final he stayed quietly on the bench, and gave Yuri a congratulatory kiss for coming in first when he sat back down. 

Yuri knew exactly why he was so lethargic, but he kept his mouth shut out of fear of death. Beka really should have stayed home. The scent blockers were slowly wearing off, and he cloud also tell that Beka had a slight fever. Plus, the concerned looks that Yuri’s teammates sent his way had him itching to get Beka as far away from the stadium as possible.  

Taking a deep breath, Beka nuzzled against Yuri’s chest and burrowed deeper into the collar of his jacket. Yuri gently squeezed his waist, pressing his lips to the top of his head. He was so adorable and so stubborn. 

All of his races were during the morning session that day, He still had to go through the semi final for the 110m hurdles, but that was his last race of the day. He’d only have one race tomorrow and he could disappear until the award ceremony in the evening. Hopefully Otabek’s heat would hold off for one more day. But it didn’t look like it would, when Otabek fell asleep with his head on Yuri’s lap. He couldn’t do anything to stop Mila from taking a million pictures of them, but when she sat down next to him he had to take his anger back. Most of them were photos of Otabek, looking so serene and fucking gorgeous with a few locks of hair out of place over his forehead. His eyelashes cast actual shadows on his cheeks. 

“You need to send me those.” 

Mila winked. “So, I’m genuinely curious. How did you two get together?” 

Yuri rolled his eyes, smoothing Beka’s hair way from his forehead. He sighed softly in his sleep and Yuri couldn’t help but smile. 

“Oh my god, Plisetsky, was that an actual smile?” Mila elbowed him. “Wow, you must really love him. So spill.”

Yuri shrugged. “I dunno. We met in high school, but like we didn’t talk then and he graduated the semester after I came. I guess I thought he was cool and hot, but we only really became friends when I had to go to his gym to train during winter to catch up with the rest of the team.” Yuri paused, looking down and trialing a finger along Beka’s eyebrow. “He said hi first, and asked how school and stuff was going. I dunno, he just… he was one of the first people to actually try to get to know me after I came to Saint Petersburg.” Mila cooed, resting her cheek against his shoulder. “We were friends for a while, and I asked him out the summer I graduated from high school.”

Mila cooed again. “That’s so cute!”

“Shut up.” 

“I mean it, though. You get all soft around him, and I can tell how much he loves you.”

Yuri blushed, running a finger along Otabek’s flushed cheek. 

“Is he okay, though?”

“So, he says. But good luck trying to tell him to go home.”

Mila chuckled. “He’s stubborn?” 

Yuri raised an eyebrow. “He invented the word.” 

“Oh God, Sara is the same, I swear.” Mila sighed, rolling her eyes. “She’s always fine, until well, she isn’t. I wonder if it’s an omega-”

She stopped when Beka slowly sat up, looking around with bleary eyes, his shoulders pulled up to his ears. 

“Bekem?” Yuri asked, once he seemed a bit more awake and aware. “You okay?” 

He nodded, leaning against Yuri’s shoulder. God, he was like a walking furnace right now. “I just... can I get some water?”

Yuri nodded, kissing his temple. There was free water and snacks for the athletes in the room over. Yuri did have water left over in his bottle, but with Beka’s current temperature he’d be better off drinking something cold.  

Beka was curled up next to Mila when Yuri came back, legs pulled up to his chest, while Mila rambled on about something. 

“Bekem-”

Mila jumped off the bench, springing towards Yuri with a frown on her face. “He needs to go home,” she whispered. 

Yuri swallowed and swore softly. “Did he tell you anything?” 

She shook her head. 

Sighing, Yuri held the water bottle out to Otabek, trying to come up with a way to convince him to leave. Otabek took the bottle with shaking hands, and Yuri breathed in through his teeth. 

“Bekem, baby-”

A heavy hand was suddenly on Yuri’s shoulder. Coach stood behind him. “You should go warm up soon.” 

Fuck. He nodded, but turned back to Otabek. “Give me five minutes.” 

Beka uncurled, resting his feet back to the floor and nearly drained the bottle in one go. “What time is it?” he asked softly.

Yuri swallowed. “Like eleven, I think. But, Beka-”

“You really should go warm up.”

Yuri rubbed in between his shoulder blades, feeling muscle shift as Beka hunched over his thighs. “In a minute. You, need-”

“I’m fine. Go warm up.”

Letting out a frustrated huff, Yuri hooked a finger under Otabek’s cheek and forced him to look up. Otabek’s cheeks were clearly flushed, and his breathing was the slightest bit shallow. Plus, Yuri caught a faint whiff of overripe peaches when he moved. 

“Baby, you need to go home.” He wasn’t playing around now. 

Beka scowled, jerking his head away from Yuri’s grasp. “No.” 

“Bekem-“

“ _ No _ .” 

Yuri pinched the bridge of his nose. “Beka, please. You need to lie down at least. You can watch me on TV if  you want to see the race that badly. But you’re not well. You can’t be here.” 

Beka’s jaw clenched. “I’m not going home.” 

Mila stepped up, stooping down in front of Otabek and placing a hand on his shoulder. Yuri bit his tongue to hold back a growl. She was trying to help, he reminded himself. 

“Hey, Beka,” she said softly, calmly and with a smile. “Here really isn’t the best place for you right now. I’m sure you’d like to lie down somewhere comfy.”

“I’m fine.”

Yuri saw her fingers moving against his back. “Okay. Just in case, then.”

Beka scowled. “Just in case of what?” It sounded like a threat. Yuri swallowed, but Mila held his gaze, her blue eyes calm and earnest. 

“You’re going into heat.”

“And?” he challenged. 

“Well in my experience, you get tired and your body hurts, so all of us would feel much better if you were somewhere safe and comfortable.”

Otabek hung his head, taking a deep breath and Yuri mouthed a thank you to Mila. 

“I don’t want to go home.”

“Why?” they both asked

“My dad…” he mumbled. 

Mila turned to Yuri, raising an eyebrow. Yuri’s spine itched but he cupped the side of Otabek’s face, smoothing rubbing his temple with his thumb. Beka leaned into the touch his eyes fluttering closed. 

“I can get you a hotel room. You said you knew a few hotels around here.” 

Otabek sighed. “But your race…”

“You can watch me on TV. I’ll be with you right after either way.” But that wasn’t the problem, he realised as soon as he shut his mouth. “And I know you’ll be supporting me, whether it’s in person or not.”

Beka nodded, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Plisetsky, you need to be on the warm up track  _ right now _ !” Coach’s voice echoed.

“I’m going!” He grabbed his bag from under the bench and pulled out his wallet. “Use my card, book a room and I’ll meet you there as soon as I win.” 

A faint smile flickered across Beka’s face and he breathed in deeply. “Okay.” 

 

Yuri was fully warmed up; he could feel the blood pumping in his veins as he bounced on the balls of his feet at the starting block. Yet, his stomach was throbbing with cold. He took a few deep breaths, shaking his arms out. Beka would be fine, Mila had even gone with him to make sure. He’d be fine and after this race he could go check up on him. He needed to focus on the race now because Yakov was watching and only one gold medal from all his events would not cut it. He stared down the track at the first line of hurdles, he still had the best time on the team for the 110 hurdles as well, it was his second best event. But, he’d never felt this anxious before. 

The start was a blur; he remembered crouching to the starting block, and he didn’t start late or anything, but suddenly the first hurdle was under him and his pace wasn’t fast enough. He did an extra half-step just to clear it, but that threw off his entire rhythm, and his heart was in his throat when the second hurdle was right there. He tripped. Not exactly a trip, but he was running like he was a novice. His shin smacked into the edge of the hurdle and the landing on the other side was anything but smooth. His knee and palms were on fire, skinned against the track, but there was a throbbing in his shin and ankle that made everything go in slow motion. 

The race finished, he saw the other runners cross the finish line while his breath was stuck in his chest. 

“Can you move your foot?” 

“Huh?” Yuri looked up. When had coach gotten there? And was that a medic?

“Come on, let’s get you up.”

He hissed, and immediately tried to hide it when coach helped him to his feet. 

He hushed him, rubbing his back. “It’s okay. You’re fine.”

Yuri swallowed. “I don’t know what happened, I just-”

“It’s okay. Let’s make sure you’re alright before we talk about it.”

Yuri hung his head, swallowing past a thickness in his throat. It hurt to walk; stinging fire exploded in his ankle and up his calf if he put any pressure on his right leg. He knew he wouldn’t be doing any more races this meet. 

He’d twisted his ankle badly on the landing. Even after icing it, it was still throbbing. Yakov even came to see him, and Yuri wanted to die. No way was he going to be recruited after this. Fuck, and it had been on national television, Katsudon and Viktor were watching the stream and Beka, fuck, and Beka’s dad. Some athlete he was, messing up on hurdles like he'd never run them before in his life. 

“It happens to the best of us, Yuri,” Yakov said, patting his shoulder. “Don’t beat yourself up over it. Everyone has off days.”

 

Beka was wrapped in his blanket when Yuri dashed into the room. He was staring out of the window, sunlight streaming into the room, turning the edges of the fluffy blanket and his hair gold. He slowly spun around, eyes wide and lips parted, and Yuri forgot everything about his swollen ankle that he totally did not just run down the hallway on. His stomach felt like it had emptied out through his toes leaving behind hot, frothy air and butterflies. And the smell,  _ God,  _ the scent blockers had finally worn off, and Yuri felt lighting shoot down to his groin and his mouth went slack. Beka was gorgeous, and Yuri honestly had no idea what he had done to get so lucky. His cheeks were flushed and his eyelashes were also outlined in gold from the sun, and his hair was just slightly tousled, probably from lying in bed. Yuri would have strode up to him, swept him up in his arms and kissed him senseless, if it hadn’t been for the slight pink tint to the skin around his eyes. 

“Bekem?” he breathed, holding his arms out and limping to the centre of the room. 

Otabek didn’t move, but his eyes flickered from Yuri’s face to his foot in his unlaced sneaker. “Your foot,” he mumbled. 

And the little bit of hope Yuri had been holding onto that Beka didn’t see him fall turned to ice. “Yeah, uh, it’s just a sprain, baby, don’t worry about-”

“You were distracted.” His voice was so soft, Yuri almost didn’t hear it break at the end. “Because of me.”

“No-”

He took a shaky breath, looking up and blinking hard, but his eyes were already glassy and turning pink. “Because I went into heat.”

“No, baby.” He hurriedly limped up to him, pulling him to his chest and kissing his temples and forehead. “It wasn’t because of you. I just started wrong, and I couldn’t get the pacing-”

He sniffled, roughly wiping at his eyes, clearly frustrated. “You were distracted.”

“No - well. Okay, yes, I was worried about you. But it wasn’t your fault; you don’t choose when you go into heat. And I knew you were safe and everything, so that was just me being dumb.” A part of him believed this, but he just couldn't get over the fact that he'd actually tripped. He needed to be better than that. 

Otabek scoffed bitterly, pulling away from Yuri, scrubbing his hands down his face and sniffling again. Yuri’s stomach tightened almost painfully and he swallowed. He had noticed subtle changes in Beka’s mood when he was close to heat. He got clingy, his temper was shorter, or sometimes he just went into a shell, pushing Yuri and everyone else away. The crying was new. Yuri’s spine tingled and his heart was beating in his throat. 

“Hey, it’s okay.” He wrapped Beka in a tight hug, slowly guiding him over to the bed. Fuck, what was he supposed to do now? “It’s okay.” He pulled him onto his lap when they sat down and rubbed slow circles into his back. That would help, right? Fuck he was so lost. 

Sighing, Beka tucked himself under Yuri’s chin, pressing his face to the centre of his chest and breathing in deeply. Yuri was well aware that he probably stunk of sweat; his face felt grimy and the synthetic fabric of his singlet probably didn’t feel all too great against Beka’s face. But, Otabek slumped against him, wrapping his arms around Yuri’s waist as he slowly calmed down. Yuri stroked his hair, kissing his forehead. His temperature was higher than this morning, but at least he wasn’t trembling or shaking. But his smell. Yuri had to shut his eyes and bite his lip to keep himself from pinning Otabek to the bed. 

“Sorry,” Beka mumbled against Yuri’s collar bone after a while. His breath was steamy, nearly scorching Yuri’s skin. “I know this isn’t what you need right now.”

Yuri cracked open an eye, looking down through thick, silky, black hair. “What _ I  _ need?”

He nodded, nuzzling further against Yuri’s chest. He took another deep breath, unable to hide the small shudder. “I’m here to support you. That’s why I came to Almaty and-”

“Bekem,” Yuri sighed, squeezing his hip, and dipping his head to kiss the tip of his nose. “Let’s worry about you right now.” 

He frowned slightly, straightening his back and letting his blanket slip down his shoulders. Yuri licked his parched lips with a dry tongue. He shifted, trying to press his thighs together because all the blood rushing to his cock was starting to do things. 

“I’m fine,” Beka insisted. 

“You’re in heat.”

“ _ And _ ?” He scowled. Yuri chewed his lip. “That doesn’t mean I’m helpless.  _ You _ sprained your ankle,  _ you _ can’t even walk properly.”

Okay. That was true enough. Yuri’s cheeks heated. “But, aren’t you...”

Otabek slipped off his lap and stood, nudging his knees apart to stand between them. “Aren’t I what?” 

Yuri shrugged, his brain sparking useless as he stared up at Beka’s darkened expression. Fuck, he was so hot. “I dunno. Tired? Cramps?” 

Otabek rolled his eyes, cupping Yuri’s cheek and smoothing a few flyaway hairs at his temple. He pulled his blanket from his shoulders, and set it on the bed next to Yuri’s thigh. Yuri inhaled deeply, eyes nearly rolling back into his head. Otabek’s scent was almost overpowering, filling the entire room. His team uniform was meant to be tight, but definitely not this tight at the crotch. How the hell was Beka able to stay so calm? He swallowed, throat bobbing when Beka closed the distance between their faces for a deep slow kiss, bracing his hands high on Yuri’s thighs. Even his mouth tasted like ripe peaches, the smell seeping out of every pore. And Yuri swore he could even taste it when he thrust his tongue into Beka’s mouth. 

Fire spread from the kiss down his stomach and Yuri’s cock twitched, he could practically feel the heat from Beka’s fingers against him. His hips bucked up on their own and Beka smiled, straightened, and stepped right against Yuri’s crotch. Yuri hissed softly, pressing his face to Beka’s stomach and bringing his hands to his hips then to his ass. He pressed his fingers into the muscle, wanting nothing more than to yank his joggers down to his ankles, and thrust his fingers in to his slick entrance. He could already smell the slight musk and tang that told him Beka was very aroused and wet. There was a slight bulge visible through the dar grey fabric front of Otabek's pants. Lowering his head just enough to press his nose to Otabek's cock, Yuri nuzzled against the stiffening flesh, inhaling as deeply as he could. The musky scent made his own cock twitch, and heated tremors rattle up to his stomach and chest. Fingers tightened in Yuri’s hair, quickly undoing his ponytail, before combing out tangles. Grinning, Yuri went bak up Beka's body and nipped at his stomach, teeth just grazing the skin through his shirt, and Beka massaged his scalp in encouragement. Slowly, he raised Beka’s shirt over his stomach, baring slightly flushed skin and shifting muscles. His breathing was still somewhat shallow, a telltale sign of heat. Yuri pressed his face to the centre of his abs, breathing in ripe peach and running his tongue up to taste the tinge of salt. His cock was absolutely pulsing in his pants, sparks of heat and electricity were dancing in his stomach. 

Beka trembled, hands slipping from Yuri’s hair to his shoulders. Breathing out against the wet skin, Yuri dipped his fingers under Otabek’s waistband, slowly pulling his pants down over his ass. Beka’s breath hitching and he moaned softly, but he stopped Yuri with a palm to his wrist.

“Wait, baby,” he breathed, staring down at Yuri with half-lidded, glassy, black eyes. “I want to do something else first.” 

Yuri let his hands fall to Beka’s hips, and he kissed the centre of his stomach. Beka was playing a game, and he was curious to see where it would go. 


	5. Chapter 5

Otabek dropped to his knees between Yuri’s thighs, his knees making a dull thud against the carpet. Yuri’s breath came out in short pants, watching as Otabek stared intently at the bulge in his pants. Beka’s eyes were so dark he couldn’t tell if they were blown or not, but he knew they were, especially when he chewed on his lips, pressing his palm against the front of Yuri’s pants. His tights kept his cock almost painfully pinned down, but the added pressure from Beka’s hands sent tremors up his body. 

Humming deep in his throat, he smoothed Beka’s hair from his forehead before cupping his cheek. He pushed against Yuri’s palm, eyelids fluttering. 

“I thought I was supposed to be pampering you,” Yuri mumbled. 

“I’m not the one with a broken leg.” 

Yuri rolled his eyes, gently tugging Otabek’s ear. “ _ Sprained _ ankle.”

“We both know you’re going to be a baby about it either way.” He punctuated the sentence, pressing his palm firmly against Yuri’s groin. 

Grunting as sparks jolted up his spine, Yuri tried to keep his voice level. “Am not. I ran all the way here, didn’t I? ‘Cause a certain someone is in heat.” 

Otabek bit his lip, eyes flickering up to Yuri’s face. “I…” he looked away, shoulders bunching up to his ears. 

Okay, maybe he shouldn’t have worded it like that. 

“Hey,” Yuri smoothed his thumb along his cheekbone. “I love you.”

Otabek’s cheeks were already flushed, so Yuri couldn’t tell if he started to blush at his words. 

“I know,” he mumbled, pressing his face to the centre of Yuri’s stomach. 

Yuri stroked his hair, smiling as his stomach fluttered softly. “So, what’re planning on doing down there? You gonna blow me, or what?”

Otabek chuckled softly against Yuri’s stomach before tugging at the waistband of his track bottoms. Yuri breathed out, but his lungs were already empty, and clumsily eased his pants and tights down his hips. He was already half hard and throbbing, but a bolt of electricity ran up his spine as Beka’s soft pants ghosted over him.

“You’re wearing too many layers,” he huffed, struggling with the tights around Yuri’s thighs. Yuri bit back a chuckle. The tights were a struggle to get on, and Otabek could barely get a finger between them and Yuri’s thighs with the way he was sitting down. He gave up after a few seconds, glaring up at Yuri. “Get these off, or I’m finding a scissors.” 

Yuri laughed, kissing his forehead, before standing and tugging the tights down his legs. The second they were out of the way, Beka shoved him back onto the bed, pinning him to the mattress by his hips. His breath was scalding over Yuri’s lower stomach, as he massaged circles into the muscles over his hips. Yuri’s skin was turning pink as well, his flush way more apparent than Beka’s. Short, tanned fingers dug into Yuri’s skin, leaving angry red marks. Beka mapped out his skin, kissing and nipping a line below Yuri’s navel until he reached the base of his cock. Yuri still wasn’t fully hard yet, but that wouldn’t take any time at all. Heat was rapidly pooling in his lower stomach as Beka ghosted his mouth over his cock.

Vision clouding over, Yuri looked down at him, threading his fingers in his hair. Beka tilted his head up as his hands found Yuri’s cock, gently teasing him with a few light strokes with only a few fingers. Yuri hissed, breathing in deeply through his nose, and gently scraping his nails against Beka’s scalp. Pleased with his reaction, Beka took him in hand, his grip careful yet firm. He pumped him to full hardness, the drag of his calloused palms against sensitive skin had Yuri’s eyes falling shut and his breath falling out in hisses. But then he stopped, and Yuri nearly whined. He cracked open an eye, and all protests evaporated when he saw Beka look up at him through his eyelashes, his mouth millimeters away from the tip of Yuri’s cock. 

“Mmm, go on baby,” he hummed, cupping the back of Otabek’s head. 

He started off slowly, closing his lips around only the head, But Yuri still bit down on his lip in pleasure. Otabek held him steady with on hand tight around the base of his cock as he slowly took more into his mouth. His breathing was still coming out in harsh pants through his nose, but his eyes were shut. Yuri massaged his scalp in encouragement, trying his hardest not to push Beka’s head all the way down. He knew he was above average in length, but not that thick - his knot made up for that, he hoped. Beka could take him to the base, he’d done it before, but Yuri wasn’t sure how far he wanted to go this time. But, he wasn’t complaining as a hot tongue pressed against the underside of his cock, and bit by bit Beka took more of him in. 

Throwing his head back and letting out a deep moan, he trailed a finger along Otabek’s jaw, feeling the tendons stretch, as he opened his mouth as wide as he could. He spent a few moments licking and sucking, twirling his tongue around Yuri’s shaft before pressing it flat against the underside and sliding a little bit deeper. Yuri felt himself throbbing, could feel himself laying heavily on Beka’s tongue. He swore loudly, praising Beka in as many ways he could think off, and grunting to at least try to slow down the rush of heat to his groin. He didn’t know if that was even possible, Beka knew what he was doing and he was  _ good _ at it. Yuri had cum many times before from just a blowjob. But at least he had stamina so he was ready to go again soon after. But, something knotted in his stomach and he bit his lip, balling Otabek’s blanket in his free hand. Beka was in heat, this should be the other way around; he should have been the one tiring Beka out, making him scream and beg for more. 

“Bek-” Yuri’s hips jolted upwards when he felt Otabek’s nose against his skin. A choked grunt had his eyes flying open. “Shit, sorry, baby-” he cut himself off when Beka squeezed his hip, pushing him into the mattress. His eyes were almost glazed over when he looked up at Yuri, his nose and buried in short, dark gold pubes, his cheeks hollowed out and redden lips pullled tight. Yuri’s mouth went dry. “You should see how fucking hot you look right now,” he rasped, smoothing his thumb along Otabek’s jaw, circling around his ear, before trailing down his throat where he could feel the line of his cock pushing out. He bit his lip. “Fuck.” 

Otabek squeezed his hip again, swallowing around his cock, and the contracting of muscles had Yuri’s vision going white for a second. 

“God, baby,” he moaned, burying both hands in Otabek’s hair and screwing his eyes shut. Otabek smoothed his hands along his sides, clearly pleased with himself. He alternated with short, shallow bobs of his head, and swallowing around Yuri’s cock as if to take him in even deeper. Yuri forgot how to even breathe properly, his throbbing cock taking over everything. He was biting his lip, moaning freely, hissing through his teeth and chewing his lip raw. He massaged the back of Beka’s head, smoothing his fingers along his jaw and throat then to the back of his neck and shoulders before going back up and repeating. He almost missed the tremble in Otabek’s shoulders, when he swallowed again, pressing his nose further into Yuri’s pubes. But it was there, a slight shaking in his shoulders, and along his arms. Yuri swallowed, taking a few deep breaths to pull himself back together. 

Okay, that was enough. He wrapped his hands under Otabek’s arms, pulled him off and up. Yuri’s cock was glistening with saliva and Beka’s lips were wet and swollen. He coughed softly a few times, panting heavily, as his eyebrows dipped in confusion. Yuri wiped a trail of spit from his chin with his thumb and guided him up straight so he could seal their mouths together in a deep kiss. Beka held onto his thighs, fingers digging into the muscle, but his tongue and mouth moved against Yuri’s like it was the only thing he needed in the world. Except the shaking told Yuri otherwise. 

He knew it was normal during heat; a build-up of energy combined with slight loss of muscle control. Heat was supposed to make him pliable and submissive, easy to move around and control. But Beka always fought it until he absolutely couldn’t, ultimately making the shaking worse. This was the stubborn, beautiful idiot he loved. He broke the kiss with a gentle nibble to Otabek’s bottom lip, and trailed his hands down his sides, pulling him to stand up. Silently, he slid his joggers and underwear down his legs, running his palms along thick thighs, and a tight stomach. Slowly, he rolled Otabek’s shirt up his chest, gently urging him to pull it over his head, and when he finally stood naked in front of Yuri, not only did Yuri’s vision narrow only to him, his heart stop beating. He was flushed all the way down to his chest, dark nipples standing out against the reddened skin. His chest and stomach were heaving, muscles shifting with each breath. And his cock, Yuri licked his lips, his cock stood proud, darkened red and weeping against his stomach. The thick musk and sweet peachy scent hit Yuri full in the face, his heart beating double-time just to keep blood flowing around the rest of his body. He wrapped his arms around Otabek’s narrow waist, pressing his palms into the hard muscles at the small of his back, and pulled him onto his lap. 

Otabek held his shoulders, eyes half-lidded and cheeks almost as red as his lips. He settled his knees on either side of Yuri’s hips, trailing a hand up Yuri’s jaw, before threading his fingers in his hair. Yuri kissed him again, holding hims tight and breathing him in. Beka kissed back, settling flush against Yuri’s lap and swallowing all he had to offer. The shaking lessened a, but Beka wasn’t in the mood to wait on anything. Bracing a hand on Yuri’s shoulder, Otabek reach behind him, wrapping his hand around Yuri’s cock again. He shifted back onto his knees, pumping Yuri as he lined him up. 

Yuri hummed, pulled away, and squeezing Otabek’s sides. “Wait-” His words died however, when the head of his cock slid against Otabek’s slick crease. Otabek hummed, rolling his hips to rub Yuri against his entrance. 

Yuri swallowed. This was going to take much more out of Otabek than giving him a blow job, but maybe if he wore himself out, he would let Yuri actually take care of him afterwards. Yuri licked his lips, pushing his hips upwards. God, he was so stubborn. Beka’s eyes fluttered shut as he sank down on Yuri’s cock, back arching and mouth falling open. Yuri’s breath left him; he was beautiful, so so beautiful. Thighs bulging as he bottomed out with a breathy sigh and hands tight at Yuri’s shoulders. Yuri held him around the waist, trying his hardest to sit still and just let Beka do his thing. It wasn’t easy; all he wanted to do was thrust up into the slick almost scorching heat. Beak’s walls were tight around him, but gave easily when he moved, pulling him in as deep as he could go. Usually, Beka didn’t need to be prepped when he was in heat, his body doing what was needed on its own, and making like three times as much slick as normal. Yuri’s stomach tightened into a hot coil. 

Practically sitting on his lap, Beka found Yuri’s mouth in a messy kiss. Even his mouth was hotter than normal, like he’d just had a cup of piping tea. With slow rolls of his hips, while their tongues entangled, Beka started a shallow, even pace. Groaning, Yuri pressed his forehead to Otabek’s shoulder, breathing in deeply and telling himself to stay calm. But with Beka’s smell strong in his nose, his solid mass heavy on his lap, and the hot, silken pull of his inside walls, he didn’t know how long it would last. He held onto Beka’s waist, arms moving with him as he began to bounce up and down in earnest, small whines and moans falling into Yuri’s mouth. 

Skin slapping against skin was loud in the room, even though Yuri’s head was buzzing and growing cloudy. Beka’s hair was flopping against his sweat speckled forehead with each bounce. His eyes were screwed shut, heavy pants falling from red, swollen lips. His eyebrows were knitted into a deep frown, but his red cheeks spoke nothing but pleasure. Yuri knew he was enjoying himself, if his iron grip on his shoulders told him anything; Otabek was definitely going to leave bruises. So, Yuri squeezed his waist to match, fingers barely pressing indents into firm obliques. Beka really didn’t have an ounce of fat anywhere, well definitely not around his waist or stomach. His ass and hips however - Yuri let his hands slip from Otabek’s waist, watching as pinpricks of red disappeared back into his skin and reached around to cup his ass. He squeezed, palming the firm, plump muscle, spreading his cheeks, and guiding him into a more even rhythm. He kept Beka fully seated for a moment longer as he pushed his hips higher and his cock deeper into him. 

Humming softly, Beka tilted forward brushing his lips across Yuri’s before pressing his face to his neck. His mouth was like flaming silk, as he attached himself to the small bump of his scent gland. It was a sensitive spot, whenever he touched that spot on Beka he squirmed, gasping in pleasure. But to Yuri it felt like lightning bolts shooting down his spine. His toes curled, his fingers tingled, and his stomach tightened, even his cock twitched, a shudder deep within Beka. Otabek rolled his hips, taking him in as deep as he could go. 

“God, Bekem,” Yuri moaned, bringing one hand up to cup the back of Beka’s head. “You’re so good.” 

Otabek hummed against Yuri’s neck and rolled his hips again. It was a wonder that he was even able to ride him right now, much less to keep up a rhythm and even tase him like this. His neck, shoulders, and down his back were also reddening and it was just a matter of time before he would fully give into his heat. Unable to hold onto his control, his legs would turn to jelly, he’d turn all soft and pliable, his eyes fully blown, and mouth barely able to do anything other than moan. That’s when he’d need Yuri the most. But until then, Yuri let him do as he pleased, bouncing fully on his lap, inner walls contracting tightly around Yuri’s cock, squeezing him like hot silk. 

The shaking started a few moments later. First it was a slight tremor in his thighs, that Yuri tried to ease with feather light strokes. Then his was his arms, shaking against Yuri’s shoulders, then even his breathing turned into shallow shudders. Yuri hugged him tight, kissing him all over his face and smoothing his hair from his forehead. Otabek swore, clenching chattering teeth. 

“It’s okay, baby,” Yuri murmured, stilling his motions and gently pressing his thumb against his scent gland. Beka let out a single shaky breath, eyes fluttering shut. “You don’t have to fight it. I’m here, I’ll take care of you.” Beka swallowed thickly, still a tempting to roll his hips against Yuri’s pelvis. 

“Hey, just relax,” he soothed him, wrapping his arms around his waist and slowly, carefully moving him to lay down on his back. 

He looked wrecked, cheeks so red and lips swollen, his eyes were wide and glassy, and his chest was pink and heaving, even his stomach was swelling with each breath. And the scent, Yuri’s mouth was dry and watering at the same time, and his cock was twitching against his stomach, leaking furiously. He crawled over Beka, spreading his thighs with a knee. 

“Just look at you, baby.” His voice was so low and gravely, surprising himself. “So beautiful.”

Beka licked his lips, reach up with shaking arms and wrapping them around Yuri’s neck. “I need you.” His voice was barely a whisper. But it was all that it took. 

Yuri didn’t knot the first few times they fucked, which was honestly a bit of a miracle, but he was too concerned with Beka getting what he needed to lose himself that way. They were in a strange room, a different country. If something happened he didn’t even know where to go to. He needed to be there for Beka in every way possible. When the sun finally started to set, sending orange light through the open curtains onto the rumpled sheets, Yuri sat up, letting the sheets fall around him. Beka was curled on his side, his face buried in his blanket. Yuri had long since peeled the sheets away from him, and used a cool wash rag to clean him up a bit. He meant to ask, if he should treat his heat temperature like a fever, cause It certainly felt like one, but he always forgot when Beka was back to normal. Still, he couldn’t imagine that it would be too comfortable to him to be sweating under all those sheets. And Otabek was too far gone to care when Yuri moved and uncovered him. 

The sun turned Otabek’s skin into gold, highlighting each rise and dip of his muscles. Yuri stared, his breath leaving him. Beka’s biceps were tensed as he clung to blanket, and Yuri licked his lips as he eyes moving down his toned back, narrow waist, with tiny dimples at the small of his back, and round, pert ass. He was perfection, and Yuri hated that he had to wake him up. But his stomach was eating itself, and he was surprised the loud rumbles hadn’t already woken him. 

“Hey, Bekem?” 

Otabek startled slightly, looking over his shoulder with bleary eyes. “Hmmm?”

“Do you think you can eat anything now?” 

He groaned softly as he sat upright, arms trembling slightly as he pushed himself up. “Uh,” he frowned, glancing around the room as if he had forgotten where he was. 

Yuri reaches out to massage his shoulder. Beka’s skin was still hot to the touch. Not as bad as earlier, but enough to be noticeable. “You should eat something, baby. You didn’t even have lunch.” 

Otabek hummed. “I don’t want to get up.” 

Chuckling, Yuri kissed his cheek. “I was hoping we could get something delivered. You know any places?” The hotel had a bunch of brochures out, but Yuri had no idea where to start. 

Beka only ate half of his  soup, pushing the styrofoam container away as he laid against the pillows. He was rubbing his stomach, but Yuri knew he couldn’t have been very full  

“You okay?” 

Beka nodded, picking up his phone. 

“Where are your painkillers? You can take another dose now right?” 

He raised an eyebrow, thumbs pausing in the middle of typing things out. “I’m fine Yura.” 

Yuri huffed, stabbing a piece of mutton with his plastic fork. He was  _ always _ fine. He finished his dinner in silence as Beka went through something on his phone. 

“Hey, uh,” he began once Yuri got up to put the rest of his soup in the mini fridge. “I have to call my dad.”

Yuri narrowed his eyes, kicking the fridge shut. “Why?”

“He’s worried.” 

“And?” 

Beka rolled his eyes, slipping from the bed and padding to the door. His phone started ringing on his way out. Yuri tried to listen to the conversation, but the few words he could make out by pressing his ear against the door, were in Kazakh. He gave up eventually, fuming back to the bed and picking up his own phone. Both coach and Yakov had send him messages reminding him to ice his ankle; he ignored them. He knew he shouldn’t be mad at Beka for talking to his father, but he was. The asshole had threatened to call the cops on him; there was no way he was going to let it go just like that. Okay, they really shouldn’t have been doing anything out in the open like that, and Beka’s dad wasn’t like Viktor and Katsudon. Sure, they both would have gotten a talk about responsibility and that stuff, but at least they didn’t act like  he and Beka having sex was a bad thing. They were annoying as fuck, but at least they respected him and didn’t treat Beka like he couldn’t make decisions for himself. Maybe it was different because Beka was his real son. Maybe he cared a bit more. Yuri took a deep breath, but still, threatening to call the cops just because Beka was holding his dick? He needed a punch to the face and a reality check. 

Beka came back inside a few minutes later, sitting on the edge of the bed and staring at his hands. “I… my dad wasn’t actually going to call the cops on you last night.”

“Huh?” Yuri blinked, had they talked about that? Did they talk about him? His stomach bubbled. 

“He’s… he’s mostly talk, anyway.” Beka wrapped his arms around himself. “He just wanted to know if I was okay. Asked if I was coming home tonight.” He glanced up at Yuri, his cheeks were still flushed. “I told him no.”

Yuri blinked, crawling across the mattress and sitting behind him. He pulled Beka against his chest and kissed the side of his neck. “Did he get mad again?” 

“Maybe.” He tilted his head, baring his neck. Yuri pressed his lips to his scent gland and Beka hummed, tension fleeing his body. “Let’s not talk about him now.”

Yuri chuckled, pushing his fingers under the hem of his shirt. Beka was too good, too kind, too willing to help everyone else even at his own expense. He stayed back with countless clients, just so they could get in one last session, hiding his exhaustion and bending over backwards to suit their schedules. And Yuri knew that’s why he was everyone’s favourite, despite how soft spoken, subdued, and blunt he could be. God, he loved him so much. And Katsudon was right, his relationship with Beka was more important than anything else. He couldn’t let his dad get in the way. And fuck, he was not thinking about this now, definitely not when he had a hand down Beka’s pants and his scent was so strong and sweet in his nose. He sealed his mouth around his scent gland as he curled his fingers around Otabek’s dick. He moaned, arching into Yuri’s hold. Yeah, he needed to be the bigger person here. 


	6. Chapter 6

Beka’s breathy moans were loud in the room, and Yuri felt each bodily shudder each stuttering breath as a spike of heat in his stomach. It was barely eight am but they had both been awake for hours. He wasn’t even sure what time Beka had gotten up, just that he was shaking again, sweating, and almost incoherent. They had both fallen asleep sometime in the early hours of the morning both completely exhausted, with Yuri giving the laziest handjob of his life. Beka had been mouthing his neck, breathing soft and even as he finally got a break from his heat. Yuri had fucked him slowly, barely awake himself, with his face pressed against Beka’s neck, his sweet scent strong in his nose, clouding his mind with a sweet haze, yet sharpening his senses. 

With trembling thighs from both heat and pleasure on either side of Yuri’s head, Beka moaned. Yuri grinned, pressing his thumb against the thick vein at the underside of his cock, and flattened his tongue against the crinkled ring of muscle around his entrance. Beka shuddered, gasping and tightening his thighs together. Yuri massaged the crease between his thighs and hips, urging him to open his legs further. He didn’t have all that much muscle control when he was in heat, but Yuri was positive he could still smash a watermelon between his legs. Beka spread his legs wide, knees falling against the bed. He complained about not being flexible, saying that some of his Pilates students had more range of motion than him. That wasn’t the case now; he was already almost folded in half. 

The smell of soap with hints of musk and peaches filled Yuri’s nose. Beka’s skin was still a little damp from their bath earlier, and slick was rolling down Yuri’s chin, but at least he wasn’t burning up anymore. Yuri breathed in deeply, sealing his mouth around Otabek’s entrance and sucking. His own cock twitched, pinned between his stomach and the mattress, as Beka shuddered again, humming his pleasure. Yuri pressed his tongue inside again, stroking the hot, silken muscles. He tasted of soap and salt, the slick was the slightest bit musky, but didn’t really taste like anything. It was his smell that did it for Yuri, that made his stomach tighten and clench, sent electrifying trills down to his cock. Beka was quivering, both his thighs and inner walls trembling. And Yuri had been going at it for a while, he wasn’t going to last much longer. His cock was throbbing in Yuri’s palm, already leaking. Lazily pumping him as he withdrew his tongue and traced circles around his rim. Beka moaned, his hands tightening in Yuri’s hair, gently pulling. 

“Yura,” he breathed, his voice slurred as he spoke through heavy panting. “Yura, I… I need…” he paused to swallow, chest expanding enough to make his back arch off the mattress. Yuri drove his tongue back inside him, stroking  his walls and sucking. 

But Beka was close, and Yuri’s cock was angrily throbbing in the way he thought he might burst soon, so he tightened his grip around Beka’s cock, thumbing the head and rubbing his fingertip against the slit. He let go of Beka’s hip with his other hand, grazing his nails across his skin on his way to his balls. Otabek nearly screamed, yanking at Yuri’s hair. Yuri smirked, flicking his rim with his tongue, and teased the head of his cock with his fingers. Otabek was trembling, and when he finally came a few moments later, he held onto Yuri's hair so tightly he felt a few strands pull free. 

Beka lay panting, his body going limp and legs falling to Yuri’s shoulders. Yuri kissed his way up his body licking a stripe up his cock and cleaning off the mess on his stomach. He nosed the valley at the centre of his abs, pausing to kiss his nipples then worked his way along his collar bones, then up the side of his neck then finally to his mouth. Beka breathed into the kiss, wrapping his arms lazily around Yuri’s neck. They kissed slowly and deeply, Yuri trailing  his fingers up and down Beka’s hips and ribs while he waited for Otabek to ground himself a bit. When he did, he smiled into the kiss, slowly pulling away and smoothing a lock of tangled hair from Yuri’s face. 

“I love you so much, Yura,” he whispered against his cheek. 

Yuri’s stomach fluttered and his cheeks grew hot. He kissed him gently again, nipping his bottom lip as they parted. “Yeah, I’d say that too if you ate me out like that.” 

Beka rolled his eyes, managing to look completely done even with dark, glassy eyes and flushed cheeks. “I still love you, you insufferable prick.” 

Beka fell asleep shortly after he came a second time. He went completely under when Yuri fucked him hard into the mattress, his mouth hung open, loud, breathless moans fell freely from his lips, and his head lolled against the pillows. His eyes were glazed over, but his fingers were squeezing bruises into Yuri’s biceps, and his trembling thighs were tight around his hips. His inner walls were searing, clenching so tightly around Yuri’s cock he saw white. He knotted him that time; Beka moaning so loud Yuri was glad that no one was in the room next to them, and his nails broke the skin on his shoulders. 

He held Beka close as both sleep and heat turned him boneless, trying his hardest to stay awake until his knot went down. But he still drifted in and out, his head mushy and fuzzy, with Beka weakly contracting around him, radiating waves of heat even as he slept. 

He woke to Beka combing his fingers through his hair, still flushed but more lucid. He peppered kisses along Yuri’s temples and forehead. 

“Had a nice nap?” he mumbled, tracing a finger along Yuri’s ear. 

Yuri rolled his eyes, palming the small of his back before lightly swatting his ass. “Shut up. You have to know that keeping you satisfied is exhausting.” Beka’s flushed cheeks grew redder. “But I love it.” He scrambled, feeling Beka begin to pull away. “I literally can’t ask for anything else. You’re so fucking good-”

“Alright,” Beka pinched his ear, wiggled out of his arms, and sat up. “I need to clean up.” 

Yuri raised an eyebrow. “Why? I’m just going to knot you again and-” 

He shoved his palm against Yuri’s face. “What is with you this morning?” 

Yuri shrugged. “You’re hot, and we just fucked.” 

He rolled his eyes, pulling back the sheets and attempting to stand up. His legs were still shaking and he nearly fell over, knees knocking against each other.

“Beka!” Yuri leapt forward, holding him up by his waist and easing him back down onto the bed.

“I’m fine.” Beka spoke into his palms. “I just,” he swallowed, slowly standing again.

“Hey, don’t-” Yuri held his elbow as he stood a slow shaky step forward. “Baby, sit down, I’ll-”

“I’m fine.” He sped up, hobbling over to the bathroom before Yuri could say anything else. Yuri followed, leaning against the doorframe watching as Beka cleaned himself off with a damp washcloth. God, he was shaking so bad. His heat had never been this bad before, had it? Well he did normally cycle through a burning fever and incoherency, but in his lucid moments he’d been more or less normal. Yuri chewed the inside of his cheek, as Beka held the edge of the countertop to steady himself. Maybe it was the stress of traveling, or having to deal with his dad. Yuri’s stomach bubbled softly and he had a sudden urge to wrap Beka up in his blanket and force him to rest. Beka would probably punch him though. 

“You want some breakfast now?” Yuri asked as Otabek sat down on the toilet seat, bracing his elbows on his knees. 

“Yeah,” he answered after a brief pause. “I’m starving actually.”

Yuri waited a few beats, but Beka didn’t look like he was going to move any time soon. His huff turned into a short laugh as he crossed the bathroom, and hooked a finger under Beka’s chin. He stooped down and pecked him softly on the lips before wrapping Beka’s arms around his neck, and easing him to his feet. 

“Okay, you’re going back to bed.” Beka hummed, leaning into Yuri as he hoisted him off the ground by his thighs. He slumped against Yuri’s shoulder, pressing his face to his neck and wrapping his legs around his waist. Beka was a solid mass, all compact muscle, and not an ounce fat; he wasn’t light. Still, Yuri could laugh at himself to think there had been a time where he could barely carry him. His ankle protested a bit, however, as he slowly limped across the room, but Beka decided not to say anything even though Yuri could feel how tense he was. He set Beka down on the centre of the bed, kissing him softly to tell him he was fine. It certainly wasn’t the first time he’d sprained his ankle. And it wasn’t even that bad either. 

He kissed the tip of his nose then the centre of his forehead before standing up straight and scanning the room for his track bottoms. He didn’t even bother with underwear before pulling them on. 

“I’ll get something from downstairs. They should have like scrambled eggs or something, right?” He picked up his hoodie from the chair by the window. He didn’t remember packing this one, but his clothes had a tendency to disappear then reappear on Beka.

Otabek nodded, already burrowing back under the blankets. “Can you bring me some tea, too?” 

“Of course, babe.”  He ran his fingers through his hair, shaking out the worst of the tangles and shoved his feet into his sneakers trying to ignore the slight twinge in his ankle. It wasn’t swollen any more, just tender. He also tried to hide the slight limp, the last thing he needed was Otabek trying to get out of bed again. 

Otabek fell asleep again a few minutes after scarfing down the giant mountain of eggs Yuri had brought for the both of them to share. He could always get more food while Beka slept, so he didn’t comment when he pulled the take-out container onto his lap. And he couldn’t complain when the food induced coma had Beka snuggling up to him, and burying his face against his chest. His light snores would have had him drifting off in a matter of minutes, except the for loud buzzing of his phone on the nightstand. 

Swearing under his breath, Yuri gently shifted Otabek from his shoulder to the pillow and swung his feet over the side of the bed before grabbing his phone. Thankfully it hadn’t woken him up; he really was in a coma, but it was coach calling. He had to answer. He slipped back on his shoes and went out into the hallway. 

“Who was that?” Otabek mumbled as he came back into the room, lifting his face from his blanket and blinking sleepily up at him. Okay, so he hadn’t been in that deep of a sleep after all. 

Yuri sighed, getting back underneath the sheets and pulling him against his side. He cuddled up to him, throwing an arm over his waist. “Don’t worry about it, go back to sleep.”

Beka grumbled, pulling away slightly. “Yura.”

He tugged at a lock of tangled hair. “It’s nothing, really. Coach just asked if I was coming to the award ceremony.”

He blinked. “When is it?” 

Yuri raised an eyebrow. “Five.” 

Beka stretched, glancing around Yuri to the clock on the nightstand. Yuri could see the gears clunking slowly in his head. “Okay, that’s not bad-”

“You’re not going  _ anywhere _ .” 

Beka narrowed his eyes, forcing himself to sit upright. His arms were still trembling as if even being awake was a bit too much for him right now. “I just need to rest-“ 

“No.” Yuri frowned as well. “You are in no condition to sit through anything like that. And it doesn’t matter anyway; I’m not going.” 

Beka swallowed, his eyes widening slightly. “But, you got gold for the 200 metre and a bronze, you have to go.” 

“Someone else can get them for me. It’s not… it’s not that important. Your health and safety means more to me than some stupid medal. It’s not even real gold.” 

He swallowed again, wrapping his arms around his stomach. His biceps tensed at the movement. “I still think you should go.” 

“I’m not leaving you here alone.” 

He sighed, flopping against the pillows, making them poof up around his head and shoulders. “I’ll be fine.” His voice was muffled. 

A small anger sparked to life deep within Yuri’s chest. He really did admire Beka for how hard he pushed himself, for how much he worked and cared about everyone around him. He loved his drive and determination, even his stubbornness. But at times like this, when he obviously didn’t give two shits about his own well-being, made Yuri so angry he could punch something. 

He did, the side of his fist slammed into the headboard with a solid crack when it hit the wall. 

Beka jumped back up, eyes wide. “Yura-“ 

“You’re always fine!” He yelled. “You’re not fine, Beka! You can’t even sit upright without fucking shaking, you could barely walk earlier, and you’re burning up! Fuck! I’m not leaving you alone here!” 

Beka blinked slowly, clenching his jaw. “I can take care of myself.” 

Yuri ground his teeth together, and he knew he shouldn't yell at him; he was in heat, he wasn’t well, but at the same time this fucking shit made him so mad. “Any other time I would believe that. But I don’t fucking get it. Why don’t you let anyone help you? I understand it Beka, I know what being in heat does to you, so just… ugh… what? You’re going to push yourself until you end up in the hospital? Fuck!” His eyes were watering. He got to his feet. “How can you sit there and tell me you can take care of yourself, when you won’t even admit when you’re not feeling well? Fuck, just stop, for like two seconds. I’m not going to think you’re weak, no fucking one thinks you’re weak.” 

He raked his hair back from his forehead, stalking to the other side of them room, before making a sudden turn to the bathroom. “I don’t give a damn what you say this time. I’m not leaving you alone.”

He didn’t slam the door, but the sound it made when it shut was just as loud. Leaning against the sink counter and taking deep breaths, he forced himself to calm down. The guilt started as a sharp pin prick in his spine. Of course he and Beka had fought before, they had yelled at each other, walked out and slammed doors, but he could never stop the guilty feeling afterwards. But seriously Otabek was infuriating and Yuri wasn’t sure if he even realised what he was doing to himself. It wasn’t like he was trying to baby him, all he wanted was for him to rest and stay somewhere safe. He shifted his weight to his good foot, once his ankle started to twinge. 

And Otabek wasn’t completely unreasonable either. Yuri took a deep breath, turning on the faucet and splashing water onto his face. All he had to do was talk with him. Talk with him like an actual human being and not yell or cry. 

Beka was lying on his side wrapped up in his blanket when Yuri came back out. His eyes were pink again and Yuri felt like he’d just stabbed himself in the gut. 

“Baby,” he climbed onto the bed, curling around Beka and pecking him on the temple. “Sorry for yelling-“ 

“No,” Beka mumbled, looking at him from over his shoulder. “You’re right. I just, I know you don’t think I’m weak. I just,” he took a shuddering breath, grabbing Yuri’s arms and pulling them tightly around his chest. Yuri hugged him tight, feeling the tension roll off him in waves, his muscles tight and knotted. “You’re so handsome and talented and you’re going so far, I can’t keep up sometimes.” 

Yuri blinked. “Huh?” 

“You’re going to the next olympics. You’re already a world class athlete and me, I’m just a trainer at a gym-“

“Hush. You’re not  _ just _ anything.” He kissed the side of his neck. 

“I’m nothing special, and you know it.” 

Yuri swallowed. Okay, Beka was allowed to be insecure he was definitely allowed to be emotional and throw himself into self pity, but this was so unexpected Yuri felt like ice had been shoved down the back of his shirt. “Babe.” Fuck. What did he even say? “You don’t have to match up to me.” He scoffed and Yuri winced. Okay try again. “I’m just good at running. That’s all. You’re the one who’s amazing. I love you so much. You’re not  _ just _ a trainer, okay, you’re my mate and an incredible person who’s way too kind and selfless, and so fucking hot.” Beka’s chuckle was slightly watery. “I mean it. I l-love you. And you’re stuck with me forever, ‘cause I don’t ever want to lose you.” He swallowed, “So please, you don’t have to be strong all the time, okay?” His nod was so tiny, Yuri could have mistaken it for him trying to snuggle into the pillow. “But I guess I already knew how stubborn you were when I asked you out.” He chuckled again. “Legendary stubbornness. But, don’t let it compromise your health, babe.” 

Beka sighed, pushing back against his chest. “When did you get so wise?” 

“Uh,” Yuri kissed along his neck, running his tongue along the shell of his ear and smiling when he shivered. “Blame Katsudon.” 

Beka chuckled softly, rolling over to face him. “Of course, the fountain of ancient Japanese wisdom.”

Grinning, Yuri sealed their mouths together, breathing him in as he ran his hands up and down the hard muscles of his sides and back. Beka wrapped his arms around Yuri’s neck, threading his fingers in his hair. He really wasn’t burning up as badly as earlier this morning, but that didn’t mean he was better, either. His heat usually lasted three or four days, and it was only day two.

 

They came to a compromise a few hours before the award ceremony and Yuri tried not to sneer as Otabek’s father stared him down. Beka was standing between them, if it could be considered standing, because he was leaning most of his body weight against Yuri’s chest. Even from under his jacket, Yuri could feel the heat radiating off of him. He’d taken a few scent blockers and painkillers, but it was easy to tell he wasn’t well. 

“Beka-”

“I didn’t want to leave him alone at the hotel,” Yuri said before Otabek’s father could start. “Can he stay here for a few hours?” 

There was a short pause, where Otabek’s dad nearly turned as red as his son, glaring at Yuri. “Of course. Beka, you know you don’t have to ask.” 

Beka hummed and Yuri helped him inside, making sure to answer Otabek’s father’s glare with one of his own. 

“Is he-”

“He’s in heat.” He took satisfaction in saying it, and at the bitter expression that crossed his face. They both knew that meant Yuri had been fucking his son non-stop. Fucking him until he screamed and his eyes crossed, and he couldn’t even form a sentence. He smirked as he helped Beka to the living room, settling him on the couch before pulling out his blanket from his gym bag. 

“I thought… suppress-”

“Those made him sick. He doesn’t take them anymore.”

“Oh.” He looked grey. 

Beka scoffed, curling up against the armrest, and wrapping his blanket around his shoulders. “It’s annoying.” 

Yuri chuckled, gently kissing his forehead.

“Are you okay?” Beka’s dad was kneeling down in front of him in a heartbeat. 

“I’m fine. I just didn’t feel… I didn’t want to go the the award ceremony.” Yuri rolled his eyes. 

“That’s no place for you right now, anyway. Come, you’re tired, rest.” 

He got to his feet, the softness in his eyes hardening when he glanced to Yuri. Okay. Whatever, he knew he didn’t like him, but at least he was putting Beka’s needs first. He ground his teeth, forcing down an odd bitterness at the back of his throat. Katsudon would be so fucking proud of him. He shook out his hands before folding them across his chest and ignoring the fire ants under his skin. 

“Sir,” he took a deep breath, turning to face Otabek’s father. Bigger person, Plisetsky. He was doing this for Beka, and Beka alone. “Can I talk to you?” 

They faced each other on the front porch, arms crossed, and Yuri had a feeling the only thing that was stopping him from kicking him down the stairs was the fact that Otabek was inside. 

“What do you want?” 

Yuri ground his teeth, stuffing his hands into his pockets. God, this was going to be much harder than he thought. “I… I wanted to apologise.” Beka’s dad’s eyebrows actually shot up his forehead in shock. “For, uh. What happened was inappropriate, and, uh, what I said afterwards wasn’t...  right either.” Yuri swallowed, staring at his feet, trying his hardest to convince himself that he hadn’t just played into Otabek’s dad’s hand. Apologising didn’t mean he was weak, just that he, well, he loved Beka enough to tolerate his asshole father. Now if only his skin would stop itching. 

Otabek’s dad’s jaw hung open slightly for a few moments and Yuri could actually see him scrambling for words. Okay, that was a bit satisfying, actually. 

“I… did not expect that from you.” 

Asshole. Yuri narrowed his eyes. “Okay, I-”

“But I… suppose I should apologise as well.” Yuri tried his hardest not to scoff. “I overreacted slightly.”

Yuri bit back an amused bark of laughter. Slightly. Right. They fell into an awkward silence, Yuri’s spine was itching, and he was pretty sure he was sweating as well. Otabek’s dad swayed on the balls of his feet for a moment, before he turned around, pulling the front door open.  

“If that’s all-”

Yuri’s mouth moved on its own. “I’m not sure if Beka has told you, but we’ve been together for almost four years now. I know we don’t see eye to eye on certain things, but I can assure you I only ever want the best for him.” 

Yuri watched the muscles in his neck work for a few moments. “Well then. If we can agree that we both want what’s best for Beka, then we shouldn’t have any problems.” 

It sounded like he was both holding out an olive branch and threatening him at the same time. Yeah, he could be civil to Beka’s dad but he was never going to like him. 

Beka was drifting in and out of sleep when Yuri’s taxi arrived. He placed a soft kiss to his temple, gently lifting his head from his lap, before grabbing his bag.

“I’ll be back in a few hours.”

“I know,” Beka mumbled, pulling a throw cushion to his chest. “You said that like ten times.” 

His father scoffed from his armchair. Yuri ignored him. 

“Congrats by the way,” his words were slightly slurred. “I want to see both medals when you get back.”

Yuri grinned, kissing his temple again before nodding at his father and heading out to the taxi. His stomach had gone from the stabbing sensation to buzzing and he had to bite back a smile as he sat down in the back seat of the car. He gave the address of the arena then reached into his pocket for his phone to tell coach that he was on his way. And, shit, he had left it on the coffee table.  

Apologising to the driver, Yuri raced back into the house, trying his best not to ruin his ankle further, and padded to the living room, 

“Hey, I forgot…” his words died and he froze just around the wall. Otabek’s dad had moved to the couch and Beka was curled up against him, resting his head against his shoulder. The itching in his spine was back. 

“I can't believe you still have that blanket,” Otabek’s dad said, gently stroking his cheek. “I got that for you when you were five.”

“I remember.” Yuri raised an eyebrow; he had thought his mom had got it for him. “You brought it back from a trip. You said you got it on the plane.”

His father chuckled through his nose. “Do you need anything? Tea? Soup?” 

“I’m fine.” His clothes rustled against the leather couch as he snuggled deeper into his blanket. 

His father sighed softly, placing a gentle kiss to his temple. “Always so stubborn,  _ zhanym _ . Let me help you. I want to help you; don’t feel bad about needing anything.” 

Yuri bit his lip, something twisting in his gut. Otabek’s father was just one, big asshole. He didn’t get why Beka wanted anything to do with him. But this tender side - Yuri swallowed the tightness in his chest. He was shit, but he loved his son. Okay, this was good, so why was did the panging in his stomach suddenly feel like a stab wound? 

“Tea. Do you have ginger?” Beka’s voice was soft and slow. 

The couch squeaked again. “Are you feeling nauseated?” 

“A little.” 

Yuri took a deep breath, taking a few steps forward as Otabek’s dad got up from the couch. Their eyes met and all the tenderness instantly evaporated. Yuri swallowed, looking away. He wasn’t allowed to fight Beka’s dad. He needed to remember that. 

“Sorry, I forgot my phone.” 

He hummed, brushing past him and made sure to hit him with his shoulder. 

“Here.” Beka leaned over the back of the sofa, holding out Yuri’s phone. “I didn’t even realise it was there.” 

“It’s okay. At least I didn’t get too far before I noticed.” He stepped up to the couch, brushed Beka’s hair from his forehead before bending to give him a kiss. “Call me if you need anything.”

Beka smiled, patting Yuri’s cheek. “I’ll be fine. Go. You’ll be late and your coach will kick you off the team-”

“Bekem? Milk? Sugar?” Otabek’s dad called. Yuri sprung away on instinct and Beka settled back down on the couch. 

“No,  _ Äke _ . Neither.”

Yuri rolled his eyes, but there was no real annoyance behind it; only the slight cold in his stomach. “Yeah, see you.” He gave him one last kiss, slow and tender, slowly pulling away and running a hand along his cheek. Beka stared up at him when they parted with a small smile and half-lidded, dark eyes. 

 

The award ceremony took around three hours. Yuri made sure he got a seat next to Mila so he wouldn’t be bored out of his mind. The announcer had the worst monotone in history, and each time an athlete had to cross the stage to pause for a picture Yuri felt an itchy annoyance climb further up his spine.

“How’s Beka doing?” Mila asked, swinging a gold medal around her palm. She’d gotten gold for both shot put and javelin, and Yuri thought he heard Yakov saying something about her getting silver for discuss. He eyed her biceps, clearly visible under her thin, white sweater and hoped that she never punched him for real. 

He leaned back against the backrest of his chair. “He’s with his dad now, but he still had a fever when I left.” He paused looking at her out of the corner of his eyes as his cheeks started to heat. “Thanks, uh. For taking care of him yesterday. Like bringing him to the hotel and getting his blanket.” 

Mila grinned. “It was nothing.” She nudged him with her shoulder. “He’s a really nice guy by the way. But you weren’t joking about the stubbornness, though.” Yuri scoffed. “But I guess that means he can keep you in line.”

“Shut up, Baba-”

“You found yourself a gem, Plisetsky. Don’t you ever let him go.”

Yuri’s cheeks heated further. Yeah, he knew that. “Trust me, I won’t.” 

“When’s the wedding then?”

He shoved her away, rolling his eyes. He knew he was probably tomato red with how hot his face and ears felt. 

 

Beka was fast asleep with Yuri got back. His father answered the door and stared at Yuri for a few seconds before letting him in, but before could head over to the living room he stopped him with a hand to his shoulder. 

“I ordered dinner for the three of us. Beka wanted to congratulate you.” 

Yuri’s eyes widened. “Oh, uh, thank you.”

He took a deep breath through his nose, hand sliding from Yuri’s shoulder. “You are very talented.”

Okay, wow. What happened while he was gone? Was this the same man? “Thanks.”

They were both silent for a few moments. Yuri stared at his feet, the back of his neck and between his shoulder blades itching. “Uh, how’s Beka doing?” 

“He’s… still a bit weak. I think he’s sleeping right now.”

Yuri nodded, turning to head to the living room. “Thanks for taking care of him, today,”

“Of course I would take care of him; he’s my son.”

Yuri swallowed. “But still.”

There was another short, awkward pause. “You don’t have to thank me.”

“I-”

“If you’re trying to butter me up-”

“I’m not!”

He scoffed. “I can see that Beka… likes you. He was very proud when you went up for you medals. Dinner should be arriving soon.” He turned to the kitchen. “If Beka wakes up tell him don’t worry about setting the table.”

Yuri rolled his eyes at his back. How fucking gracious. 

Beka didn’t eat much at dinner and he was mostly silent as his father needled Yuri with questions about track and field. How had he gotten started, what was training like, how would he get paid? Some of the questions were still a bit judgmental, especially when Yuri told him he’d have to rely on sponsorship to really make any money. But Beka hand found his hand under the table and was gently rubbing his knuckles, so he didn’t give two shits about what his father thought, until he suddenly turned to Otabek.

“You should eat more, Beka. You need to keep up you strength.” 

Yuri raised an eyebrow, glancing from Otabek’s father to his mostly full plate of macaroni noodles and strips of beef. Okay, so first he was eating too much, and now he was eating too little. And of course he would never eat that much of something so oily and carb-loaded. It was like his dad didn't even know him. 

Beka shook his head.

He huffed, staring at Otabek like he was a disobedient child. “Beka-”

“My stomach hurts,  _ Äke _ ,” he snapped. 

His father snapped his mouth shut, looking down at his own plate. Yuri squeezed Beka’s hand. “Do you need painkillers or anything?” he whispered. “Tea?” 

Otabek shook his head, but his father was already standing and heading to the kitchen. He returned a few minutes later with a steaming mug and set it down in front of Beka. Otabek sighed softly, but took a small sip.

“Thank you,” Beka grumbled as his dad sat back down. 

“You should still try to eat something,” he instructed. 

Beka sighed, stabbing at a noodle. 

“Don’t force yourself,” Yuri muttered, his back itching as he glared at Otabek’s dad. 

“He needs to eat.” 

Yuri rolled his eyes. “He shouldn’t make himself eat food this oily or rich, especially not  _ now _ . It’ll make him feel even worse.” 

“He has to eat more.”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “Of course. ‘Cause you know everything about health and nutrition, right?” 

Otabek’s father narrowed his eyes, and Yuri couldn’t help but feel that they were back at square one. 

“He-”

“ _I can speak for myself_ ,” Otabek grumbled, setting down his fork and glaring at Yuri and his father in turn. “This meal is a bit too heavy for me,  _Äke_. I can’t eat any more. The tea is fine for now.”

Yuri smirked when Otabek’s father huffed, turning away from them like a child about to throw a tantrum. “Fine then, I won’t order anything next time.” 

Yuri rolled his eyes again; fuck this man. He couldn’t have been happier when their taxi pulled up outside of the house. He had called right after he finished eating, not wanting to spend any more time than necessary around Beka’s dad. 

“How’re you doing?” Yuri asked as Otabek snuggled up to him in the back seat. He was burning up again; tiny beads of sweat were dotting his temples. No wonder he could barely eat anything. God, his stomach mush have been cramping badly too. 

His breath was like fire against Yuri’s neck, and he smelled the faintest bit of sweat and peaches from under his hoodie. 

“I need you to fuck me as soon as we get back,” he mumbled, eyes falling shut, as he clutched the front of Yuri’s track jacket. 

 

Otabek moaned into the pillow, powerful thighs trembling as Yuri pushed his knees apart. He somehow managed to keep his ass in the air, back arched beautifully and his hands tight around the sheets. Yuri trailed his hand up and down his hips and thighs, the light dusting of dark, wiry hairs stuck to his skin with sweat. It was a beautiful sight, one that had Yuri’s mouth going dry, and his stomach clenching and tightening around a ball of fire. His cock was twitching and leaking in his loose grip and the strong scent of peaches and musk was heavy in his nose, making his breath heavy in his chest. 

“Yura, please,” Beka’s voice was hoarse, as he pushed his hips back, begging. 

Yuri licked his lips, dragging his finger slowly down Otabke’s slick crease, stopping to circle the slightly swollen ring around his entrance. He gasped softly, hips jumping back.

“Yura…” 

Yuri smirked. “Yes, baby. I know.” 

He slowly pushed in, holding his breath as Beka clenched around him. Beka let out a long, high moan, pushing his hips back until they met Yuri’s pelvis. Yuri could feel each heaving breath he took, his mouth hung open, his face was red, and hair plastered to his forehead and temples. Yuri pressed a hand to the small of his back, dipping his fingers into the shallow dimples before curling his fingers around his hips. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbled, leaning over, and placing soft kisses between his shoulder blades.  

Beka hummed, gently rocking his hips, his inner walls contracting and squeezing Yuri tight. The fire in his stomach grew. 

“How do you want it, baby? Slow and deep, fast and hard?”

Otabek swallowed with difficulty, finding Yuri’s hand amongst the sheets and entwining their fingers. “Hard,” he panted. “Fast and hard.” 

Grinning, Yuri pulled out almost to the head of his cock, then sunk his teeth into the skin around Beka’s scent gland as he slammed back in. Beka howled, entire body shaking as Yuri picked up a quick, merciless rhythm. He hadn’t marked him yet, a bond mark was definitely not something he could do on a whim. Even if he knew Beka was his mate, if he marked without his explicit consent things could go badly. But the love bite he was going to leave was going to be deep and dark, easy for everyone to see. Making it easy for everyone to know that Beka was  _ his _ . His cock twitched, a heated coil tightening in his lower gut. He hadn’t come yet for the night, trying to hold on for as long as possible, and make sure that Beka got the most pleasure possible before he knotted. 

The bed-frame creaked occasionally, and the sound of squelching slick and skin hitting skin was loud in the hot, heavy air. Beka’s moaning was loud too, punctuated by breathy gasps and pants each time Yuri bottomed out, pushing in deep. The base of his cock was getting tighter by the second, swelling slowly and creating a delicious resistance  each time he pushed past Beka’s rim.

“I’m gonna knot you,” he mumbled into his ear, licking at the shell. Beka shuddered, clenching his jaw and screwing his eyes shut. 

“Yes,” he moaned into the pillow. 

“Fill you up.”

“Yes.” 

“Make you scream.”

“ _ Yes _ .”

Grinning, Yuri went back to suck at his scent gland, letting go of his hip, to pump his cock. Arching into his hand, Beka let out another deep moan. He pumped him quickly, a little bit roughly, in time with his thrusts until he came, shuddering and gasping, his walls squeezing Yuri tight drawing out his own release. Yuri slammed into him one last time, his knot sealing them together as he basically exploded inside of Beka. White overtook his vision, and his teeth clamped down on Otabek’s scent gland and his entire body was buzzing with waves of pleasure. 

Otabek swore, whimpering softly, and squeezing Yuri’s hand. His walls continued to contract, his own orgasm yet to fade, as Yuri’s knot stretched him wide.

“Fuck, Yura,” his voice was soft and choked in pleasure. “Fuck.” 

Yuri kissed his scent gland, gently running his tongue along the abused skin. “You’re okay, baby,” he whispered, “I’m here, I got you.”

He bucked up against him, and Yuri certainly didn’t expect fingers tracing the point where they were connected, fingering his own stretched out rim and dragging his nails through the hair at the base of Yuri’s cock. He swore again, legs trembling and back heaving against Yuri’s chest. 

Yuri eased them down onto their sides, not trusting himself not to fall flat against the mattress and crush Beka underneath him. Beka threw his leg back over Yuri’s thigh, still running his fingers along his rim, and the very base of Yuri’s cock. He did that sometimes, like he was measuring how wide Yuri speared him open, or trying to gauge just how big his knot was. It was incredibly hot, and if they weren’t sealed together, Yuri would have started fucking him again. 

Blinking against the tiredness itching at the back of his eyes, and gnawing at his muscles, he wrapped an arm around Otabek’s stomach, pressing in as if he’d be able to feel himself deep inside. Otabek hummed, wiggling his hips slightly, still massaging his rim. 

“You okay, Bekem?” Yuri mumbled, words quickly slurring. 

“Yeah.” His breath hitched slightly. His cheeks were so red, and his eyes were still closed, but his breathing was slowly evening out. “I love you so much.” 

Yuri smilled, burying his nose in the velvet of his undercut. This time he knew it wasn’t his heat speaking. 

When Yuri woke the next morning, soft light was falling through the curtains he’d forgotten to close. Beka was still on his side, pressed firmly against his chest, ass to his groin. The faint stirrings of heat between his legs woke Yuri up fully and he kissed up Beka’s neck, pausing at the deep purple bruise on the side of his neck.

“Morning, baby,” Beka mumbled. His voice was so much clearer than that night and even though he was still a bit warm, Yuri could tell his heat was starting to fade. 

“Morning.”

“Slept well?”

Yuri propped himself up on his elbow, looking over Otabek’s shoulder to see him tapping away at his phone. “Yeah. Uh, I should be asking you that, though. How’re you feeling.”

Otabek glanced at him out of the corner of his eyes before surging up to softly peck his lips. “I’m fine. Finally, no more cramps, and my head doesn’t feel like it’s stuffed with cotton.”

Yuri smiled, settling back down and pulling him tightly against his chest. “Good. You’re not as warm either.” 

“I’ll bring you to meet my mom’s family later,” Beka mumbled, scrolling through a string of text messages. “They don’t live in the city, but my cousin said she can pick us up.”

Yuri nodded, pressing his nose to the side of Otabek’s neck. “As long as you’re feeling well enough.”

“I’ll be okay. I’ll take some suppressants and bring some painkillers. And my grandmother said we can spend the night if anything. But I think my heat’s breaking, so we should be fine.”

Yuri hummed. “It’s was short this time.” 

“You...count the days?” 

“Yeah.” 

“You’re so weird.”

“What? What’s wrong with keeping track of how many days we do nothing but eat and fuck?”

Otabek groaned softly. “Yeah, it was shorter, but more… intense. I think the stress from traveling and my dad… yeah. Anyway, my cousin can come for us at around noon. If you...”

They would have to change their flight back to Saint Petersburg, they were booked to fly out tomorrow. But Yuri wasn’t too keen on the idea of flying until he was sure Beka’s heat had broken fully. Maybe two or three  extra days in Almaty would be enough. “O.. okay. If you’re sure.” 

Otabek rolled over to face him, tossing his phone to the mattress behind him. “Don’t sound so scared.” His smile was small, and he brought his hands up to trace along Yuri’s jaw and cheek. “My mom’s family is nothing like my dad. I think they’ll actually like you.” He pecked his nose, his eyes sparkling playfully. “I mean, if you don’t cuss them out.”

Yuri blushed, as Beka chuckled and tucked himself under Yuri’s chin. “Shut up,” he muttered, hugging Beka tight.


End file.
